Ready for some TMI?
It took me four years of attempting to stick a tampon up my vagina before I could finally do it without excruciating pain.
The first time a guy fingered me, it felt so horrible that I asked him to stop. It felt like he had his whole fist shoved up inside me. He insisted that he had only stuck one finger up there and was trying to be gentle, but I was doubtful so I tried sticking a finger up my vagina in my bedroom. He was right. One finger hurt an awful lot.
The first time I had a pelvic exam I cried from the pain. The second time I was in so much pain that the nurse altered her standard procedure to try to accommodate my pain.
I think the first time I had sex without feeling any pain was about a year after I lost my virginity.
When I masturbate, I never penetrate my vagina, I just rub the area around it.
Sex is still uncomfortable and sometimes painful for me on a regular basis, and I get the sinking feeling that I don’t enjoy sex as much as most people. (To be fair, I have had a handful of amazing sexual experiences.)
My parents taught me that sexual intercourse was something that happened between two married people.
They monitored the movies and TV shows I watched, and they considered sexual scenes to be the single most inappropriate thing for me to watch: worse than violence, worse than cursing, worse than drugs … worse than anything.
When I was in public school, they refused to sign the waiver to let me take sex education, and I had to sit in the library and write a research paper about my religion instead.
About my religion … let’s keep it brief and just say that my parents were very religious, and, as is the case with many religions, premarital sex was a sin.
I went to a high school affiliated with my religion, and we received abstinence only education. This education consisted of Right Relationships talks, where we discussed how anyone who wants to have sex with you is with you for the wrong reasons, and anyone worthy of your respect will honor your wish to wait until marriage.
Tonight I discovered vaginismus. Being the armchair diagnostic that I am, I immediately recognized myself in the description. You can google it for more details. In a nutshell: women who have ingrained in them at a young age that sex is bad develop a muscle memory in accordance with this attitude. The vaginal muscles tense up, and it’s an involuntary response, similar to how your eyelid blinks when you’re trying to keep foreign objects out of your eye.
Maybe I’m wrong, and my upbringing has nothing to do with my unusually tight vagina. But if I’m right, then I pit my parents and my religious upbringing for taking this simple pleasure away from me.
But to end on a positive note, I am very grateful for discovering this condition, because I also discovered that vaginal dilation kits are supposed to help with this.