My Beginner Experiment Plan: Trying New Things Without Overthinking It

Okay, so apparently I’ve reached the stage of university where I’m making an actual experiment plan for exploring my sexuality.

Not a revision timetable. Not a meal plan. Not even a sensible budget spreadsheet.

An experiment plan.

And before anyone imagines something wildly adventurous, please understand that I wrote the first version in my university notebook while wearing an oversized hoodie, eating cereal out of a mug, and avoiding an assignment that was due in approximately 36 hours.

Maya walked past my bedroom door, saw me staring very seriously at my notebook, and asked, “Are you revising or planning a bank robbery?”

Neither, babe. Somehow more embarrassing.

The funny thing is, a few months ago I would’ve been mortified to admit I was curious about trying new things.

Now? I’m still a bit nervous, but I’m also starting to realise that exploring your sexuality doesn’t have to mean doing anything dramatic.

Sometimes it just means getting curious, figuring out your comfort zone, and giving yourself permission to learn without overthinking every tiny decision.

Which, considering I once spent 45 minutes choosing a sandwich in Tesco, is a fairly ambitious goal.

But we’re trying.

Why Trying Something New Felt Like Such a Big Deal:

Growing up, conversations about sex were basically nonexistent in my house.

Sex ed covered the biology, the warnings, and approximately zero useful information about actually feeling comfortable with yourself.

So when I got to uni and realised other people could discuss dating, boundaries, and sex toys without turning bright red, I was genuinely confused.

Like, excuse me? We’re allowed to talk about this?

I spent ages thinking everyone else had some secret handbook.

They didn’t.

They were just figuring things out too.

After the flatmate conversation that made me feel normal about exploring, I started wondering whether I could stop treating every new curiosity like a massive personal crisis.

Because here’s something I’m learning:

Being curious about something doesn’t mean you have to try it.

And trying something doesn’t mean you have to enjoy it, repeat it, or turn it into part of your personality.

You’re allowed to be curious and cautious at the same time.

Honestly, that realisation would’ve saved me a ridiculous amount of late-night Googling.

My Five-Step Beginner Experiment Plan:

I needed something simple.

Not a 47-step self-discovery journey with matching stationery.

Just a realistic approach that works when you’re a student, have limited privacy, and occasionally have £8.63 left until payday.

Here’s what I’m trying.

Step 1: Start With Curiosity, Not a Shopping Basket

My first instinct whenever I become interested in something is to Google it.

Then read 14 articles.

Then somehow end up looking at products I absolutely do not need.

So this time, I started with a list.

Three categories:

• Things I’m curious about: Topics, experiences, or beginner-friendly products I’d genuinely like to understand better.
• Things I’m unsure about: Stuff that sounds interesting but might not be right for me.
• Things I’m not comfortable with: Anything that doesn’t feel like something I want to explore.

Simple. And weirdly helpful.

Step 2: Choose One Small Thing

Let’s be for real.

The internet can make exploring your sexuality look like everyone is constantly trying something new and having a life-changing revelation every Tuesday.

Meanwhile, I’m celebrating remembering to put my washing on before midnight.

So I’m starting small.

That might mean learning more about my own preferences, reading about a topic I’ve been curious about, or getting comfortable expressing what I do and don’t want.

It doesn’t have to involve another person.

It doesn’t have to involve buying anything.

And it definitely doesn’t have to happen immediately.

Small steps are still steps.

Step 3: Set a Budget Before I Get Carried Away

If you’re skint, don’t panic.

You absolutely do not need an expensive collection of products to explore your sexuality.

I learned this during my first student-budget shopping experience, when I realised just how quickly an innocent browse could become a financial decision.

Now I’ve got a few rules.

I set a spending limit before looking at anything. I compare products instead of buying the first thing that looks appealing. And I remind myself that a fancy price tag doesn’t automatically mean something is suitable for beginners.

If I’m considering a toy, I look for clear material information, straightforward cleaning instructions, and something that suits my comfort level.

If you’re thinking about making your first purchase, I’ve already shared what I learned in my first-toy experience as a student.

Step 4: Make Comfort and Privacy Part of the Plan:

I love my flatmates.

Genuinely.

But student accommodation wasn’t exactly designed with personal privacy in mind.

We have thin walls, unpredictable visitors, and a group chat that somehow knows everything before I’ve even processed it myself.

That’s why comfort isn’t just about what I’m curious to try.

It’s also about my surroundings.

I prefer having some uninterrupted time, knowing my belongings are stored privately, and making sure I’m not rushing or worrying about someone barging in to ask whether I’ve seen their phone charger.

If I’m using a toy, I follow its cleaning and care instructions, use suitable lubricant where needed, and stop if anything hurts or feels uncomfortable.

No pushing through.

No pretending something feels right when it doesn’t.

And absolutely no treating someone else’s experience as a standard I need to meet.

I’ve already written about how I keep things discreet with flatmates and thin walls, because honestly, privacy deserves its own university module.

Step 5: Check In With Myself Afterwards:

This might be the most useful part of my entire plan.

Instead of asking whether I’ve successfully “experimented”, I’m asking myself three questions:

Did I feel comfortable?

Was this something I genuinely wanted to explore?

Would I choose to do it again?

That’s it.

No ratings out of ten.

No complicated progress tracker.

And definitely no spreadsheet called Lena’s Sexual Development KPIs.

I want to pay attention to my own feelings rather than focusing on what I think I should be experiencing.

Sometimes the answer might be, “That was interesting.”

Sometimes it might be, “Not for me.”

Both are perfectly valid.

My Beginner Boundaries: Things I’m Not Compromising On:

One thing I’ve realised is that exploring your sexuality and having boundaries aren’t opposites.

Actually, they’re pretty connected.

Earlier this year, I spent a lot of time learning how to communicate what I wanted when dating.

I used to worry that saying no, asking questions, or changing my mind would make everything awkward.

Turns out, being honest is considerably less stressful than pretending to be comfortable.

I talked about this properly in Dating at Uni: How I Set Boundaries Without Making It Awkward.

And those lessons still apply now.

Whether I’m exploring independently or with someone else, I’ve got a few non-negotiables.

Consent matters. I can change my mind. I don’t need to justify my pace. And if something doesn’t feel right, I don’t push it.

I’m also learning that I don’t need to be the most adventurous person in the room to be confident.

Sometimes confidence sounds like, “I’d rather not.”

Sometimes it’s, “Can we talk about this first?”

And sometimes it’s just being comfortable admitting that I don’t know yet.

The Student Reality Check: Budget, Flatmates and Awkward Timing:

Every time I read advice about exploring sexuality, I feel like there’s an imaginary person living in a gorgeous apartment with unlimited free time.

Lovely for them.

I have university deadlines, flatmates, a questionable heating situation, and a budget that requires emotional support.

So my plan needs to fit my actual life.

That means I don’t buy products just because they’re trending. I don’t rush myself because someone else seems further along. And I don’t sacrifice privacy or comfort just to tick something off an imaginary list.

If I do want to explore beginner-friendly toys, I’d rather choose one suitable, easy-to-care-for option than buy several things without really knowing what I want.

Discreet storage matters too.

My humble wash bag has done more for my peace of mind than some genuinely expensive purchases.

And honestly?

Sometimes the best decision is to do absolutely nothing.

Especially when I’ve got a 9am lecture and haven’t finished my reading.

If you’re curious about products, you can browse beginner-friendly options or explore budget picks under £30.

My Actual Goal? Less Pressure, More Curiosity:

So, back to my notebook.

The one Maya thought contained plans for an elaborate criminal operation.

I’ve officially decided that my beginner experiment plan isn’t really about experimenting as much as possible.

It’s about feeling comfortable enough to make my own choices.

Without rushing.

Without spending money I don’t have.

Without comparing myself to someone on social media who appears to have their entire life figured out.

And without treating every little curiosity like a major identity crisis.

I’m still learning.

I’m still occasionally embarrassing myself.

And I’m definitely still Googling questions at 1am that I probably could’ve asked Maya over breakfast.

But I’m feeling a little less worried about the whole thing.

Which feels like progress.

So if you’re curious about trying new things but don’t know where to start, here’s what I’d tell you:

You don’t have to try everything.

You don’t have to like everything.

You don’t have to spend a fortune.

And you definitely don’t need to turn exploring yourself into another university assignment.

You’re not weird. You’re learning.