How I Mounted My 'Damaged' V*gina

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It was a taboo part of my body that I could never bring myself to look at.

I always knew I had a v*gina, but it was a taboo part of my body I could never bring myself to look at. I mean, I got my period, but other than that, my vajayvay and I were merely acquaintances.

Every month, I’d shy away from tampons in preference of a trusty, non-invasive pad that helped me maintain my cool distance from my lady garden. But I knew that coming face-to-face with that little, cotton bullet was imminent. A rite of passage.

One night after school, I laid an old towel down ever-so-gently on my bedroom floor. I took off all my clothes and ripped open a fresh box of tampons. Clutching the thing tightly in my fist, I was a woman on a mission. I laid on my back, fighting to get the tampon inside my body, but the discomfort overruled all of my determination.

I felt violated, and began to weep.

Why couldn’t I do something so many other women seemed to do with ease? I was a freak. Convinced my v*gina was broken, I went back to pads, and pushed this incident far into the back of my mind.

By the end of my final year of school, I had my first boyfriend. It was summer, and love was truly in the air. I was a virgin and extraordinarily naive, though not naive enough to be ignorant to the looming prospect of s*x. We quickly learned that penetrative s*x of any description was not on the cards for us. No matter the position, or amount of foreplay and lube, my v*gina remained as firmly closed for business as it had when I’d tried to insert a tampon.

After many late nights of desperate Googling and expressing my anxieties to friends, I decided to confront the problem, and see a doctor. All I wanted was for someone to take a look and tell me I was normal. That my v*gina was not deformed, and I was healthy and a-okay.

And that’s exactly what happened.

I confided in a kind female GP, who asked me to lie down so I could be properly examined and managed to gently insert a finger. I was relieved. It was the first time I’d been able to get anything in there.

In my extensive online digging, I had discovered “Vaginismus” – a condition I didn’t know much about but that seemed to fit with my experiences, so asked her if I fit the bill, and oh-boy, did I.

As we ran through the list of symptoms, I ticked off each one; difficult or impossible penetration of the v*gina because of tightening muscles? Check. Burning and stinging pain when anything – be it a tampon, p*nis, or anything in between – is inserted into the v*gina? Oh yes. Intense fear of penetrative s*x? You betcha.

For some reason, my body had learned to associate vaginal penetration with pain. Even though I was consenting to, and wanting, s*x, my vaginal muscles would tighten to “protect” me. To understand what it’s like, you can point your finger and slowly move towards someone’s eye and watch their eyelid instinctively shut. I knew I needed to unlearn this defense mechanism if I ever wanted a healthy s*x life.

Turns out Vaginismus is just as much a mental condition as it is a physical one. It’s linked to anxiety, and overcoming it requires retraining your brain. Attempting penetration with Vaginismus is often described as feeling like you’re “hitting a wall”. So it was physical and mental? Great.

I went online and ordered The Complete Vaginismus Treatment Kit, which included a workbook, instructional DVD and dilator kit. Pushing any skepticism aside, I proceeded to diligently work my way through the exercises, which included recounting family history and any preconceived notions of s*x. I would always read aloud my entries to my boyfriend, no matter how cringeworthy it was. I thought it would somehow help. We cuddled up in bed one night to treat ourselves to the DVD which was basically some intense 80s bush and full-frontal v*gina shots and cheesy, scripted dialogue. We never made it to testing out the dilators because after reaching the ninth exercise (which involved a f*ck-load of Kegels), I had s*x for the first time!

It was an ordinary afternoon, and my boyfriend and I were lying on my bed, reflecting on all the work we had put into conquering this thing. He asked me how I would like to lose my virginity and I explained that even though we still have a long way to go, I wanted it to be a spur of the moment, relaxed event. No candles, no hotel room, and no pressure.

Minutes later we were fooling around, and it just happened. I was finally able to have penetrative s*x. The feeling was pure euphoria and accomplishment. I kid you not, I was skipping around the house. I messaged all my friends. You could not wipe the smile off either of our faces.

It’s now more than three years later and we are still together, and still having s*x. My anxieties about s*x, Vaginismus, and my body still rear their ugly heads from time to time but as soon as I realized painless s*x (not to mention pleasurable s*x) was possible, there was no turning back.

And as a PSA; s*x shouldn’t hurt, and if it does, please know that you’re not alone, and you should most definitely talk to someone about it. S*x should be fun, and make you feel good, which I learned over time, and after many, many, many Kegals.

Featured image via unsplash.com.

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Join the discussion: Have you ever experienced pain during s*x? How did you fix it?