When I think critically about why I decided to visit the doctors a few years ago, if I really am honest with myself, I realize I was seeking sympathy more then a cure. That’s not to say I wasn’t looking for a solution. I just wanted someone to reassure me that I would be okay and tell me there was some sort of several-step program that could “fix” my body effortlessly. This was not the case (could you guess?).
At a young age I lost my virginity through consensual penetrative sex. In short: It was excruciating. I had never felt such pain. This burning, stabbing feeling continued to happen every time I had sex and only got worse. Every time it was followed by a panic attack. This physical pain ended within the hour afterwards. What had no end was the sense of shame I felt from not being able to have functional penetrative sex. Not only was I frustrated that I could not express my love to my partner in this way, but I was ashamed I couldn’t manage something that seemed so easy for everyone else. The embarrassment haunted me. I would lay there after the ordeal and recall couples in movies passionately making love. I resented the magazines I’d see waiting in line at the grocery store, all headlining articles about sex and how to do it right. I was madly jealous my friends who did what I couldn’t effortlessly and freely.
It turns out I am not alone and that this is a condition called Vaginismus. Vaginismus is sometimes brought on by a negative sexual experience such as assault, but sometimes it isn’t caused by anything at all. I’ll give a description here:
“Vaginismus is a condition where there is involuntary tightness of the vagina during attempted intercourse. The tightness is actually caused by involuntary contractions of the pelvic floor muscles surrounding the vagina… In some cases vaginismus tightness may begin to cause burning, pain, or stinging during intercourse. In other cases, penetration may be difficult or completely impossible[…]. The tightness can be so restrictive that the opening to the vagina is ‘closed off’ altogether […]. “
(A digram, incase that wasn’t graphic enough for you.)
Vaginismus is particularly irritating because it functions on a cycle. You have sex, it hurts. Your body remembers how badly it hurts, so next time you go to have sex your muscle memory kicks in and tries to protect itself from this pain, causing even more pain. This also applies to putting in tampons and taking part in pelvic exams. I didn’t get any of this information from a doctor, by the way. Doctors. Let me tell you about that.
In hindsight I should have went straight to a therapist, but that’s not the point. The point is it took a lot of guts for me to come forward about this. After going through the process of telling my poor mother she took me to a doctor at my request. As I was saying at the beginning, I was eager to hear the solution to my problem, but mostly desperate for emotional affirmation that I would be okay. To my dismay a male doctor walked into the room and stared at me coldly as I stammered through an explanation. He said I “just needed to calm down” and told me to use lube. Ten years of medical school for this. What a gem.
I got to meet many gems while trying to rid myself of this condition. Every time, with no exceptions, the doctor was cold, even confused, as I discussed my most personal of issues. One doctor made me explain myself several times before understanding and rolled her eyes when I cried. The next told me I needed to get a pelvic exam and didn’t understand when I explained to her that I physically could not do that, that was the problem I was seeing her for. Another lady told me to toughen up and that I was bringing it upon myself. No kidding. These doctors could not grasp how emotions could play a part in a physical problem. They had separated my body from my mind so cleanly that they became a bit perplexed when simply tackling it as a physical issue did not work. It seemed they were talking to my body and were offended when my thoughts interjected, as if I had a lot of nerve to interrupted their process with my thinking mind. Up until this point it hadn’t occurred to me that doctors would make such a concise separation. But Vaginismus is unique. It is inherently emotional. I mean, every condition comes with emotions attached, but vaginismus is perpetuated, in part, by emotions. Watching doctors try to fumble through this was very hurtful, but in hindsight comical.
I just had some bad luck with doctors, but regardless, when people go into the doctors they often want the same thing I wanted: A professional seal of approval. Affirmation that your body is not working “normally” followed by a solution. I stopped seeing doctors and started working on my own seal of approval, one where I affirm my body just as it is. If my body does not want to have penetrative sex then I need to give it credit. This is my normal. Its a constant struggle to convince myself of that. I have to step back from how the doctors viewed me and I have to invalidate the media trying to project what sex should be. Once I accepted my difference I no longer felt vulnerable in my body. Rather, I felt empowered by my new level of self awareness. Now that I feel agency over my body, I am better equipped to handle the challenges it comes with.
Unruly Bodies 
Thanks for posting this! I have never heard of vaginismus. I appreciate your honesty and admire your ability to focus on yourself and dispel the norm.
That was powerful! Congratulations on finding that strength to share your experience with your mother, multiple doctors, and now us!
I have never heard of vaginismus before and I am glad you used your experience with the medical doctors. I love that you go into what frustrations and issues you have with getting lay-people and the medical community to understand vaginismus. You are truly insightful about learning to understand what is normal for you.
This is incredibly powerful to read, and I’m glad you’re able to look back on your experiences and find humor in them. It is shocking to me that doctors could not fathom a condition where the mind and body coincide, however in retrospect it reminds me of somatic illnesses and injuries, which can be incredibly difficult for doctors to diagnose. It does seem that doctors truly have a lot of difficulty remembering the mind when considering the body!
Thank you so much for sharing your story. This is one of those examples of how we learn to distrust our bodies. We expect the experts to know all the answers, but when something is wrong and they can’t find anything we assume it must be our fault. Learning to trust yourself with your body and listen to what it tells you it needs or doesn’t want is hard but so important. It’s easy to forget that you alone know how your body feels.
I enjoy the raw honesty of your post and thank you for presenting your narrative in the way that you did. To most, it would still seem that you have not found a solution because you have accepted Vaginismus as your norm and not found a way to “cure” it, but I think that it makes your piece even more powerful. It shows that discovering our bodies is a constant process, and that it our right to determine what the “norm” for our own bodies is.
I really like the strong phrasing of “I have to invalidate the media trying to project what sex should be.” Usually we hear and say that the media is invalidating us—instead you are determined to invalidate and discredit the media for spreading incorrect and harmful messages.