I’m about as woo-woo as a narcissist is empathetic: not.

Palo santo makes me sneeze, tarot and oracle cards give me the heebie-jeebies, and the witch-meets-goddess aesthetic my friends from women’s college have started rocking feels a little more spooky than “culturally conscious” to me. You do you, boo (literally).

So how the heck have I become the proud owner and user of crystal dildos?

My ex and I broke up around Halloween, and none of the in-this-dimension stuff I’ve tried — yoga, kickboxing, therapy, my earthly (but robust) collection of sex toys — has helped me get over them completely.

One night, my friend (who isn’t a witch, per se, but definitely has Banks vibes) was over. She, too, was going through a breakup, so we’d cued up the best breakup movie — “Mamma Mia!” — and swapped phones for an evening of Dating App Roulette.

For the uninitiated (read: the lucky bastards who found love pre-Tinder), Dating App Roulette is when you swipe for your friend and they swipe for you.

Alas, after an hour of Meryl Streep’s serenades, my friend had matched me with a guy who could only be described as A Total Brad. (You know the type: sockless loafers, Barstool obsession, burner phone, uses the phrase “return on investment” in casual conversation).

“He’s perfect one-night stand material,” she said.

My response: “I’m not going to cleanse my vagina with some beta-who-thinks-he’s-an-alpha’s dick.” And herein entered the idea of “cleansing” my vagina in the name of moving on to bigger and better things.

The idea of crystal sex toys can best be summed up by this statement from the website of Chakrubs (a registered crystal-based sex toy company that takes gold for best company name ever, BTW): “Crystals have perfect molecular structures that have positive effects on our electro-magnetic fields. When our energetic bodies are at ease, we are at ease, we are open to healing, to peace, to love, to all of life’s pleasures.”

“Healing, love, all of life’s pleasures… Sexy? Methinks yes.”

That night, I went to Chakrubs’ website and bought myself a decidedly pricey wand: a $189 pure rose quartz curved dildo, which, according to the description, “speaks directly to the heart chakra to help dissolve emotional wounds and provide a circulation of divine loving energy throughout the entire aura… providing comfort to those who are grieving or in pain… and reprogramming the heart to receive love.”

Translation: This crystal dildo is supposed to do to your vagina what Marie Kondo does to your closet. Sold.

A week later I got my toy in the mail and was f’ing terrified that I would use it wrong.

I had the standard “asking for a friend” Q’s that one typically has about crystal cocks: Would streaming porn or hitting up Reddit’s erotica thread with it nestled in my yoni cause seven years of bad luck? Did there have to be a full moon — or could there *not* be a full moon? Did I need to be chanting (or something…) while I touched myself — and what the heck should I chant?

I called up Alexis Maze, founder of Gemstone Yoni, another sex toy company that aims to spiritually (ahem) nourish women, and asked if she’d be willing to chat with me about all things crystal toys. She was. Not all heroes wear capes.

“With a crystal, it’s a lot deeper than going to your local sex store and picking up something that you think will make you feel physically good,” says Maze. “It’s about the intention going in with it.” She said there was no right way to set an intention with my dildo but that it should be heartfelt.

I decided to light sage incense, put on Maggie Rogers, shut the shades, and plug in my lava lamp — because those felt like things that someone who jerked off with a crystal dildo might do.

Then, I stripped down and sat in Bound Angle Pose on my bed, hugged the rock cock in both hands at heart center, and repeated, “I am worthy, I am beautiful, I am whole.” (Maze suggested I include the phrase, “I love my yoni” in there, but honestly the word “yoni” turns me off more than an Alanis Morissette song.)

I’ve never been one to talk to myself when I masturbate, but honestly, it felt really affirming. Maze promised I’d *feel* when I was ready to move from my intention to the solo sesh. And she was right.

Somewhere between my tenth mantra repetition and scene numero uno of my go-to James Dean fantasy (hi, boys with good hair and motorcycles), I felt intuitively that it was time to get down to business.

As I ran the crystal down my stomach, I loved how cold and heavy the quartz was — if you’ve ever used a glass or steel dildo, this feels similar. The thing is that a crystal doesn’t vibrate the way, say, a vibrator does (duh). But the toy (nay, pleasure stone) definitely had its own energy vibrations.

Maze told me that because the crystals combine sexual and spiritual healing, I might feel an overall vibration of emotions, which she described as a wave. “I’ve had people come to me and say that they cry beautiful uncontrollable tears or have an overpowering orgasm when they use them. They have a power to pull out emotion from your body.” Swag.

“After about 15 minutes of testing out different movements, patterns, and pressures, I stopped. You’re probably wondering if I had some kind of next-level orgasm. I didn’t.”

But not finishing isn’t unusual for me, so that didn’t detract from the fact that I felt like I’d just partaken in some serious solo-sex magik.

When I was finished, I cleaned up — which is a little tricky because hot or boiling water can cause the crystal to crack internally, so you can’t simply throw the toy in the dishwasher like you can with silicone toys.

“With crystal sex toys, you have to clean them of body fluid and bacteria, cleanse them energetically, and then recharge them in the sun or moon,” says Maze.

So I washed the crystal dildo in a bowl of warm water and some soap. Then, I set my wand next to the sage on my desk, which is under a giant window, so that the sunlight could renew and recharge it.

And then? I bought two more!

Maze told me that obsidian was a great stone for healing (@ my heart) and that red jasper is a seriously passionate stone, so I got the Obsidian G-Spot Yoni Wand from Gemstone Yoni (a much more reasonable investment at $42.99) and a Red Jasper Spiral Yoni Wand (for $44.99).

Honestly, all three had the same effect spiritually. But I like the obsidian wand best because of its little bulbous top.

I’ve been using my three crystal dildos for about three weeks now.

I still wouldn’t consider myself a hippie witch, nor do I really believe all the hullabaloo around crystals. And no, I’m not over my ex any more noticeably than I was before.

Maybe the crystals can tell I’m not a *true* believer. Maybe I just need more time with my collection. Maybe hoping a crystal sex toy could help me get over my ex was just magical thinking.

But here’s the thing: When I use them, I feel better. When I use them, I’m reminded of the mantra I chanted the first time I used one: “I am worthy, I am beautiful, I am whole.” Plus, there’s the whole stress-relief benefit of masturbation. And because of that, I’m a believer.

Regardless, my vagina is a magical place — and after a breakup, maybe I just needed a crystal dildo to remind me of that fact.