A Love Letter to My Toto Bidet Seat

Or: How I Finally Stopped Raw-Dogging the Toilet Seat Like a Damn Savage

Dear Toto Washlet,

You complete me.

No, seriously. You’ve changed my life in ways therapy hasn’t even touched yet. For as long as I can remember, I have fantasized about having a Japanese-style bidet toilet. Like, actual dreams. But between apartment living and my wallet giving me the side-eye, I figured it was one of those "when I win the lottery" luxuries—right alongside a MANE Cave, a personal chef, and full emotional stability.

So for years, I lived like a peasant with a peri bottle. Yes, the same thing given to postpartum parents to help freshen up after pushing a whole baby out of their bodies. And listen, shout-out to my faithful travel bidet, and of course, my squatty potty—which will always hold a place of honor in my bathroom hierarchy—but those were survival tools. They were not a lifestyle.

And then I went to Japan.

Y’all!

Everywhere. I mean everywhere—from shrines to random department stores and even 7-Elevens—bidets were standard. And not just any bidets, these were warm-seated, booty-spritzing, blow-drying thrones of dignity. I have never felt so seen, so supported. Public restrooms in Japan are cleaner than some homes I’ve stayed in but that they also include a full bidet toilet…crazy. And I knew, somewhere between the gentle hum of a heated toilet seat and the ethereal spritz of a back-wash setting, that when I got back to the States and into my own apartment, this was going to happen for me.

Fast-forward to April of this year, I am finally in my first apartment as a solo widow in Seattle. And whilst I’m setting up my first apartment alone, with my moving budget spreadsheet wide open, and staring down the price tag of a plush sofa I had been eyeing for months. I figure Tree and I never had a “nice” couch before so why not BUT then I thought back to Japan and got on the Googles and I saw her — the TOTO SW3084#01 WASHLET C5 Electronic Bidet Toilet Seat on Amazon. At nearly $400, it is a splurge, to be sure. But one that whispered, “You deserve clean cheeks and a warm seat.”

Dearest Gentle Reader, I bought it. And I downgraded my sofa dreams to a regular ass IKEA sofa bed—because priorities.

Three months in, and I can confidently say: it has already paid for itself. The emotional support alone? Priceless. Every time I use it, I feel like a person who has made a good decision. Like someone who loves themself. Like someone who won’t settle for less than a toasty throne. And the IKEA sofa bed is working out just fine too.

And I must say, going back to regular toilets? Barbaric. I visit family, sit on a freezing toilet seat, and suddenly I'm a Victorian ghost whispering, “How very dare you…” at the lack of personal sanitation. It’s the betrayal for me. The betrayal of cold porcelain and zero water pressure.

First Japan ruined me, and then this bidet has ruined me—and I’m so okay with that.

So this is just a little departure from my usual grief-fueled dispatches to say: invest in your booty. You’re worth it. I may still be navigating the waves of widowhood and trying to figure out this new version of myself, but at least my ass is warm, clean, and living its best life.

Never raw-dogging a toilet seat again,
Sharmane

P.S. If you want to experience the same joy as me, I do have an affiliate link but literally I signed up to be an affiliate only because of this bidet seat, so do with that what you will.