Getting over vaginismus in lockdown
Written by Madeleine Rosie
Photo by Flavie Eibel
The lockdown brought to us by Covid-19 allowed for many of us to try a new hobby or skill. It seemed that the popular activities were banana bread baking, downloading Strava and attempting a run, or binge watching Tiger King. For me - it was attempting vaginal sex.
Vaginismus was a condition I knew I had for 3 years, but due to lack of information, past sexual trauma and my own confidence issues, it was something I had not truly worked on. Even the insertion of a pinky finger into my vagina caused unbearable pain and discomfort. Questions of my ‘body count’ or ‘one night stands’ at University were conversations I dreaded and very much tried to avoid. Whilst I was in a long term relationship before and had previous sexual partners, it was not something I truly opened up about until I met my current partner last August.
It should also be noted that we have a long distance relationship during University - with both of us in our second year at University, studying more than 100 miles away. When we saw each other every 3 weeks in term time, we did not attempt vaginal sex, but rather continued with oral and anal sex. Anything clitoral focus was a yes. Penetrative vaginal? It was a no from me. Back then, I would much rather go without sex and still have fun , than attempt it and spend my short time with him upset and defeated by my condition.
So when lockdown was announced in March to the British population, we made the decision to live together, for our lectures and exams were both online. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to work on sex and my own sexual confidence, since we had nothing else to do apart from watching TV and cooking (not that I was complaining, both were brilliant).
At first, we started gradually. Every day or two days, he would insert one finger and try penetrating me with it. It was not pleasant or sexy or enjoyable. After, it would often leave me feeling very fragile and vulnerable, my own self doubt beating and punching any self esteem I had left. However, I am very lucky that my partner has always been supportive of me and my condition, as well as us having an all round healthy and communicative relationship. He always gave brilliant after-care and knew when I was in too much pain to continue, even if I did not want to ‘give up’ just yet.
A week passed, with one finger now becoming more acceptable. Ready for a challenge, we tried two fingers. Any progress was good progress for us. Nothing spontaneous, nothing romantic. Eyes shut, trying to imagine a warm beach or my favourite food, the last thing on my mind was enjoyment. Any thought was better than the physical pain I experienced. I was constantly afraid of it being a chore, something procedural, to the point that I was worried my partner would not want to continue or it would not cause him enjoyment. Yet, we remained close as ever. In fact, we would often joke that this was our ‘lockdown project’, a team bonding experience. We set aside 40 minutes a day at least, sometimes split into different parts of the day. With every day passing, things were getting a little easier.
As someone with body image issues and a complex relationship with self-penetration, I had never attempted fingering myself before or used a dilator. So when 2 fingers become doable, I realised that in 3 weeks, I had achieved something I had not done in 3 years. Filled with elation, I announced to my partner, ‘Can we try sex?’. He has never pressured me at all and has always respected my boundaries, so I am sure my keenness was something of a surprise to him. We researched the best sex positions for someone with vaginal pain, opting for the spooning position (where I was the small spoon and he would hold my shoulders for support). I did not know what I expected, but it sure did not feel like sex to me. It was not unpleasant, but not something I would shout at the top of my lungs about. A numbness of sorts, but perhaps this was also a coping mechanism for past sexual experiences. Like the fingering experience, we did this every day - sometimes twice a day if we were really feeling that way inclined.
It was only until the sixth time we had vaginal sex I felt physically good. It was not rare for me to cry after sex - but for the first time, I cried out of happiness. After 5 weeks, we had conquered something I had been nervous about for 3 years. Sex is not always hot and filthy and filled with dirty talk. For us, sex seemed more of a practical endeavor than a romantic one at the start. But, we did it. And if that was not a productive time spent during lockdown, I don’t know what is.
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