There’s a common piece of sex advice, an old sex educator adage usually aimed at people wanting to please vulvas: “consistency is key, especially when someone is nearing orgasm. If your partner implores you not to stop, DEAR GOD DO NOT CHANGE WHAT YOU’RE DOING. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.”
You never want your partner to be that guy. But the We-Vibe Wish is that guy. The Wish is the guy who thinks this advice doesn’t apply to him, because he has this one technique that the ladies go wild for, that gives them screaming orgasms 100% of the time, and you just don’t know how good it could be unless he bestows his gifts upon you. You like two fingers so much, he reasons, just wait ’til I use three.
But three is where it all goes to shit.
The We-Vibe Wish was conceived on this idea: consumers love the robust motor in the Tango, why not stuff two of those suckers into a single vibrator? I mean, yeah! Do it! I want that! Cast in a gorgeous pool blue silicone, the Wish is rechargeable, app-compatible, and features a uniquely squishy outer layer unlike most of its contemporaries. You can see why my initial reaction to this toy was a sharp, wheezy intake of breath. The sound of excitement.
My excitement deflated, however, when I realized that in lieu of steady vibration settings, the Wish has three “PowerPulse” (™, always ™, forever ™) intensities. As the name suggests, these settings feel more like pulsation patterns. We-Vibe is billing this as a feature, of course — they gave it a registered trademark name after all — but if you ask me, it’s a bug.
Or, well, maybe it’s more than a bug, because it basically ruined the entire toy for me.
PowerPulse feels like a fast pulsation interrupted by brief, beautiful moments of steady vibration, and then out of nowhere, with seemingly no trigger, an off-kilter back-and-forth glitch kicks in. The two motors are powerful, for sure, but it’s as if the vibration is quickly leaping between them willy-nilly. It reminds of me a washing machine when the load gets uneven. Erratic, unpredictable, and distressing. A weird pulse punctuated by bullshit.
It’s the kind of annoying tease you expect from a Tinder date, not a sex toy.
This is the curse of dual motors, and it’s a phenomenon I’ve experienced before. It’s just how two motors interact with each other, I’ve been told. They periodically go haywire. On a technical level, I don’t know why it happens, though I’m sure some dude will happily over-explain the mechanics of it in the comments section of this review. But zip it, bro, because I don’t need the details to know that I hate it. My clit prefers prefers steady, consistent vibration. Always has.
The Wish doesn’t jive well with my masturbatory habits either. This vibrator is deceptively large — at 4″ long and 2.75″ wide, it fills my palm — but my preference for more pinpoint stimulation means the size is lost on me. I hold the tip diagonally against the left side of my clit, not using the broader surface area available. It could easily cup the vulva, and with its size and softness I have a hunch it could be good for humping. I NEVER hump things, though. (I stubbornly attempted it with the Wish and I definitely looked like a bumbling fool.)
The spongy silicone control button is a step backward for We-Vibe. They’ve never been awesome at control interfaces — nobody likes using single button to cycle through 11 settings — but this button is exceptionally dissatisfying to press. Further, the dual motors in the Wish make quite a ruckus. I could hear it even with headphones on, watching porn.
But none of these issues matter nearly as much as the fact that using this toy feels like a battle. Fun fact: I generally consider myself pretty orgasmic during masturbation. A well-placed vibe on a lower setting is often enough to get me off. Now I know to update that: a well-placed vibe on a steady lower setting. Because the We-Vibe Wish just makes me feel defective.
Using the Wish is perilous, like masturbating with the door unlocked when your mom is home. Not only does PowerPulse make it more challenging to achieve orgasm in the first place, it sabotages the orgasm itself. The strong, thrumming nature of the vibrations can bring me to the brink, but god forbid PowerPulse barges in and starts smacking my clit from different directions. Then my orgasms feel only half-realized, half-enjoyed, like a TV show cancelled before it could get its footing, or leftover french fries that wilt in the microwave.
The exasperation is almost painful.
And if this toy makes me, a seasoned sex toy veteran, feel defective, what kind of havoc can it wreak on the average consumer? I fear it. I’ve long hypothesized that most people don’t care about vibration patterns clitorally, but now… now I have evidence. Because I took a motherfucking poll.
With over 400 responses, I think it’s safe to say that 86% of people consider steady vibration more important than patterns clitorally. Some respondents use patterns for warm-up, teasing, and avoiding numbness, but the vast majority of people “hate them with a passion,” “despise them,” and find them “annoying,” “distracting,” “pointless,” and “a waste of time.” Respondents complained that patterns fail to follow the dynamic process of arousal, causing frustration and disrupted orgasms.
One person inadvertently corroborated my characterization of vibration patterns as a clueless bro:
Vibration patterns are the backwards upside down visor of the masturbation world. “YO IMMA MAKE U CUM TONITE,” it screams, barely hanging onto its cargo shorts. But you end up in bed with it and nope, not like that, nope that’s not doing anything for anyone, omg why what is so hard about this who lied to you and told you this was good why how who when where how whyyyyy?
Less than 3% of respondents deemed patterns essential to their enjoyment of a vibrator. These people mentioned being ultra-sensitive and using patterns to delay climax and to avoid boredom, numbness, and discomfort. One respondent who struggles with orgasm due to taking anti-depressants explained that patterns help them “focus more on the sensations instead of negative thoughts.”
My favorite answer, though? “It is a sin for women to orgasm without the intention of procreation.”
I’m not arguing against the inclusion of vibration patterns in toys — variety is good and useful — but there’s no shortage of patterns in the world. The Wish has seven of them, for god’s sake, with the potential for programming your own. “I wish vibes would focus on more than 4 intensities,” wrote one respondent, “instead of a handful of patterns I wouldn’t even pulse iced coffee with.”
There is one steady setting built into the Wish, but it’s not even mentioned in the manual and you have to click the button TEN TIMES to get there, and when you do it’s disappointingly buzzy and one-dimensional. There’s also a way to hack a variable steady setting into the Wish, if you create a custom vibration pattern in the app and literally draw a straight line across the screen with your finger. It gives me a glimpse into what this toy would be like without its PowerPulse insistence, but… the picture isn’t great. Adjustable intensity is helpful, but on its own the single motor is unimpressive.
One benefit of the app is being able to pause and resume the same setting, so if my needy-ass cat hobbles in and starts sad-meowing at me I can easily pause, feed her, and then jump right back into jacking off. But the app requires the use of two hands: one to hold the toy and one to change settings. My left hand is my designated dildo hand, so unless I can sprout another arm, I have nothing with which to hold my phone.
For kids these days whose phones are seemingly glued to their hands (YEP, I WENT THERE), this may not be a downside. But I’m old-fashioned and I like having the controls built into the toy itself. It means I can access settings one-handed and quickly. It means if my phone isn’t charged it’s no big deal. It means I won’t slather my phone with vag juice and lube. Given the choice between hacking a steady setting into my vibe which can only be adjusted with my phone vs. not using that toy at all, I choose not using the toy at all.
Without all the PowerPulse bullshit, the Wish would be an ideal toy for folks wanting a plush vibe that covers more surface area. But unless you love patterns or controlling your vibrator with your phone, you’d be better off getting a squishy Iroha+ or putting a Tenga Egg over the head of the Magic Wand Rechargeable. Just want a nice clitoral vibe? There are many superior ones, all of which have genuine steady settings.
The We-Vibe Wish lacks the consistency necessary to make me feel at ease, taken care of, like masturbation is supposed to feel. It really is like a pompous dude trying his ultimate sex trick on me. Sure I could pretend to like it, I could force a moan, I could fake an orgasm, but why? I have better things to do. The Wish is not a bad sex toy, but for me, it’s a never-again toy. And that bums me out.