Okay, let's just get into it. Scissoring is one of those sexual acts that gets talked about a lot — often as a punchline, sometimes as a fantasy, rarely as something people describe with any real honesty. So when I tried it for the first time, I had a head full of expectations that were shaped almost entirely by media and secondhand stories. And the reality? It was very, very different from what I'd imagined.
I think a lot of people are curious about this but don't ask because the topic feels either too taboo or too awkward. So here I am, sharing my experience with zero filter, because that's kind of what I do. And honestly, I think there's a lot of value in talking about the sexual experiences that don't go perfectly according to plan.
What I Expected vs What Happened
Let me paint the picture of what I thought scissoring would be like, based on what I'd seen and read. I imagined this seamless, intensely pleasurable position where everything just lined up perfectly and both people immediately felt incredible. The media representation of it — when it even exists — makes it look effortless and overwhelmingly satisfying.
The reality was a lot more... logistical. Finding the right angle took some time. Getting comfortable enough to actually relax and enjoy the sensation required adjustments. There was some laughing, some repositioning, and a fair amount of "wait, let me try this instead." It wasn't the smooth, cinematic experience I'd been sold. But you know what? That awkwardness was kind of beautiful in its own way, because it was real.
The Myths Need to Be Addressed
One of the biggest myths about scissoring is that it's the primary or most common way that women have sex with each other. That's just not accurate. It's one option among many, and for a lot of people, it's not even the most pleasurable one. The reason it gets so much attention is largely because of how it's been represented in media created for the male gaze — it's visually dramatic, which makes it popular in certain types of content, but that doesn't mean it reflects most people's actual experiences.
Another myth is that scissoring always leads to orgasm. For some people it absolutely can, especially when the angle is right and there's enough clitoral contact. But for others, the stimulation might not be direct enough on its own. And that's totally fine. Not every sexual act needs to end in orgasm to be worthwhile. Sometimes the intimacy, the closeness, and the novelty of trying something new are the whole point.
What Actually Makes It Work
After my first somewhat clumsy attempt, I did some research and talked to other people about their experiences. What I found is that scissoring works best when you approach it with patience and a willingness to experiment with angles. The "classic" position isn't the only option — there are variations where one person is on their back and the other is on their side, or where both partners are sitting up, that can create better contact and more comfort.
Lubrication also makes a significant difference. Skin-on-skin friction without enough natural or added lubrication can make the experience uncomfortable rather than pleasurable. And communicating throughout — "a little higher," "that angle feels good," "let me shift" — is essential. The couples who enjoy this position tend to be the ones who treat it as a collaborative exploration rather than something that should just work automatically.
Why Trying New Things Matters
Beyond the specifics of this particular position, I think my experience with scissoring reinforced something I believe deeply: trying new things sexually is valuable, even when they don't turn out the way you expected. Every new experience gives you more information about your body, your preferences, and your comfort level. And that self-knowledge makes you a better partner and a more confident person.
If scissoring ended up being the most mind-blowing thing I'd ever tried, great. If it wasn't quite my thing, that's also great — because now I know. There's no wasted experience when you're approaching your sexuality with curiosity and openness. The only real failure is never exploring at all because you're afraid it won't be perfect.
The Takeaway
My first time scissoring wasn't what the internet told me it would be, and that's okay. It was messy and real and human, which is how most good sexual experiences actually go when you strip away the performance and the expectations. If you're curious about trying it, go for it. Approach it with humor, communicate with your partner, and let go of the idea that it needs to look or feel a certain way.
I share a lot more of the details and my honest reflections in the full video. If you want the unfiltered version, you know where to find it. And remember — your sexual journey is yours. No one else gets to define what "good" looks like for you.
