CW: This article discusses anorexia, eating disorders, and sexual penetration.
Sana Rajagopalan
When I was younger, I was told tampons were a game changer. For many people, this is true: a study by Harvard’s School Of Public Health found that 47 per cent of people are regular tampon users. At the time, my friends had a box in their rooms and encouraged me to get one, too.
So, I bought a pack of tampons. But the tampon did not fit into my vagina. It hit a brick wall. My body was already tense, and the idea of tampons had never appealed to me. I left the box untouched in my cupboard.
The same year, I started dating someone. When both of us were ready to have penetrative sex for the first time, it was a tense moment. My partner said it was like ‘trying to enter a brick wall’, and they thought I was resisting their body. I was confused and upset. I was reminded of the time I tried to insert a tampon.
This was when I realised I might have dismissed something serious.
Something Wrong With My Body
Following this realisation, I went about my normal routine, but there was a constant knot in my stomach. I had an underlying feeling there was something wrong with my body. Although I wanted to address it and seek help, another part of me did not want to face the reality of what might be wrong.
I was embarrassed to book an appointment with a GP to speak about my issues. Instead, I was in an in-between state of uncertainty and confusion. I was trapped in an emotional and symbolic liminality. Left to decide whether or not to speak up about my concerns, I was forced to reflect on how it had started to chip away at my confidence, and I started to question my identity and worth.
“I struggle to see my body as capable of desire, of being loved and attractive.”
A lot of women share my experience. Doctor Leila Frodsham, the lead consultant in psychosexual medicine at Guy’s and St Thomas NHS Trust in London, says: “Vaginismus destroys lives. It doesn’t just destroy relationships. It affects women’s confidence as a whole. I often see women who go for job promotions once they’re better because they feel more empowered to be themselves.”
The discomfort ultimately pushed me to take action and book an appointment with a female GP. It was time to face my fears, speak about my experiences, and take the necessary steps to discover what was happening.
Eating Disorders And Vaginismus
The next week, I was examined by my GP and diagnosed with vaginismus. Vaginismus is an involuntary contraction of vaginal muscles in anticipation of penetration, which affects one in 10 women. However, many people remain undiagnosed because vaginismus is a poorly understood condition, with little research, awareness, and understanding of the issue.
My psychosexual therapist explained that the cause might be linked to my history of anorexia and lack of sexual desire while growing up. This isn’t uncommon. Studies show 67 per cent of people with eating disorders experience decreased sexual desire, while 59 per cent are anxious about sex. Furthermore, 85 per cent of patients with genito-pelvic pain and penetration disorder, which is associated with Vaginismus, also struggle with disordered eating.
My body has never been a site of pleasure. To me, it is problematic, taking up too much space. Studies show it is common for patients with anorexia to have a negative attitude towards sexual feelings, arousal, and their bodies being perceived as sexual or feminine. I frequently view my body as something to be controlled and punished. I struggle to see my body as capable of desire, of being loved and attractive.
Less than a year ago, the thought of sex made me squeamish. Opening up my body to someone was a thought I never entertained. In fact, my partner and I had several conversations before I felt comfortable with the idea of sexual intimacy. But my vagina had internalised these narratives. It had not experienced arousal, passion, desire and love for years. Now, my vagina was resistant to sexual intimacy and penetration.
Rediscovering My Body
The first step was to reframe my engagement and relationship with my body. I started to slowly unravel the layers of anxiety, shame, and ignorance I built surrounding my pleasure. Every day, I try to remind myself that I am beautiful and capable of experiencing love and desire. I learn and practice sex positivity.
Masturbation is not easy for me, and my vagina is still tight, but the journey has been one of growth and learning. I am in awe of what my body can sense and feel. I am willing to patiently work through my cognitive beliefs and pelvic floor exercises to experience more.
“My diagnosis has paved the way for me to truly see my body for the first time, as well as give it the love and care it deserves.”
Trying to overcome vaginismus takes an effort, which ebbs and flows. Each experience and emotion brings a new realisation about my body, relationships, societal expectations, and medical knowledge.
On the days when my vagina feels more receptive to penetration, I feel optimistic about potential relationships with my own body and others. On the days when everything hurts and nothing feels right, I despair about my anatomy. I feel incapable of being loved and overcome by a sense of helplessness at not knowing whom to contact.
Living With Vaginismus
Being diagnosed with vaginismus was hard to reckon with, especially because of the lack of conversation or openness about the condition in society. But my diagnosis has paved the way for me to truly see my body for the first time, as well as give it the love and care it deserves.
I am still not all the way there. My vagina is tight and resistant. The process of rediscovering my body takes patience and time to work through. But the door has opened, and I am taking baby steps. My body deserves time, space, and, ultimately, to be loved by me.
For me, life will always be in a state of transition, where change is constant. My diagnosis did not end the discomfort of the liminal phase. But it helped me accept different circumstances that we are faced with in life.
Featured image courtesy of Charles Deluvio on Unsplash. No changes have been made to this image. Image license here.
Upasana
Upasana works in healthcare editorials in London. She has a passion for analysing the written words, crafting evocative narratives and avidly reading a wide range of books. A 30 min dumb-bell workout and carefree dancing can brighten up her day :)