I Cured My Vaginismus

But only after it ruined my wedding night

Lots of people have gone through dry spells when it comes to sex, and I’m no exception.

But mine didn’t happen because I couldn’t find a partner or decided I wanted some extended me time.

Mine happened because my vagina rebelled against me.

Crying After Sex

A few years into my relationship with Mr. Austin, I started having physical difficulties with sex.

We had been hot and heavy for a while and never experienced any serious challenges in that department. Now, it was almost like he didn’t fit anymore.

At first, it only happened when we had particularly intense sex. After we were done, I’d start crying.

I had heard of this happening to women, usually because of the heady cocktail of emotions and hormones that come from orgasms and sexual pleasure.

But in my case, it wasn’t pleasure at all.

Yes, the sex was good. Great, even. But I didn’t tear up because I was overwhelmed with emotions. I was crying because of the discomfort I experienced.

It wasn’t pain, exactly, but it was a sharp and intense physical sensation that I didn’t care for whatsoever.

I started worrying about having sex. I dreaded that feeling and I was worried about the flood of tears that would follow it.

To make matters worse, I wasn’t the only person who cried after sex with Mr. Austin. One of his exes did the same, almost a year into their relationship. Her tears, though, were caused by guilt — she cried after sex because she was cheating on him.

That ramped up the anxiety. The discomfort was bad enough, but now I worried Mr. Austin would think I was having a secret affair or that I was no longer happy with him.

So, we had sex less often.

Then, things got worse.

Pain Killed My Sex Life

I didn’t cry after intense sex anymore, but only because I stopped having intense sex. Or any sex at all.

Even attempting penetration hurt me. Instead of discomfort, I now experienced searing pain.

It’s like I had tightened up to the point where sex was no longer possible.

So, I entered into the longest dry spell of my adult life.

I got married and didn’t have sex on my wedding night. In the hotel room, I removed the wedding dress and laid in bed with my newly minted husband, his Mrs. for the first time. In my underwear, knee-high socks, and professional make-up, I imagine I looked pretty goddamn fuckable. But all I did was turn over and go to sleep. I didn’t want to ruin the day by going through unbearable pain.

I had a sexless honeymoon for the same reason. On the flight back, we were seated next to an older gentleman. He joked that, since we had been vacationing as newlyweds, we must have seen the inside of our rooms and missed all the tourist attractions. (No, sir, we saw all the sights. So, you can stop it with that winking.)

Mr. Austin suggested we try other types of sex. We could fool around. We could try mutual masturbation. We could 69 until the sun came up if we wanted to.

I turned it all down.

Not being able to have sex wasn’t just boring. It wasn’t just frustrating. It was also embarrassing. It made me feel like less of a woman. I felt entirely inadequate as a spouse.

Finding some other ways to get off would have been admitting defeat.

So, instead, I went almost an entire year without having any kind of sex whatsoever.

I worried that I was doomed to have a sexless marriage. Not being able to fuck would make having kids a little more complicated than I wanted it to be, too.

So, I did what any Millennial with a physical problem does: I googled my symptoms.

That’s how I learned about vaginismus.

Basically, vaginismus is an involuntary contraction of the vaginal muscles, usually during attempts at penetration.

The Women’s Therapy Center calls it a “a vagina in panic” and that’s essentially what it felt like. As soon as my husband’s cock got near it, it’s like it freaked out and tightened up.

That gave me hope, because giving it a name meant I could research the problem and hopefully uncover a solution to it.

Retraining My Vaginal Muscles

Lots of the advice floating around online didn’t help me much. A lot of it focused on using lots of lube and taking it slowly. Well, lube was the first thing we tried, and if we took it any more slowly than we had, we would have been motionless.

There was also the occasional doctor advising to just have sex and eventually the pain might go away. But “just powering through” excruciating sex felt too rapey for me.

So, instead, I ordered a set of dilators.

When they arrived, I was amused to discover that they looked like tiny cone-shaped dildos. It’s like I had ordered a package of sex toys and now had to go online to complain that they were not as advertised.

The way they’re supposed to work is that you insert a very small one and allow your body to get used to the feeling and respond to it properly. Then, you gradually switch to bigger dilators until you can take your partner’s dick again without your vagina freaking out.

The kit also came with an instruction manual for how to perform pelvic exercises to regain control over the muscles in that region.

Step one was to do hundreds of kegels a day — some long, some short, some stronger than others. The goal is to have as much variation as possible.

After that, it was time to start using the dilators. I inserted the smallest one and held it in place while doing kegel exercises, tightening and releasing the muscles around the dilator until I got used to it being there. Once I could insert it without pain, I moved on to the next size and repeated the process.

It took a few months to master the dilators and insert the largest one without clenching or tightening.

The third step was the big one: attempting to have sex again.

I was a little nervous about this one. Mr. Austin is a bit on the big side — certainly thicker than any of the dilators — so I wasn’t sure how things would go.

We engaged in foreplay for at least half an hour, then it was time for the main event. I took his cock in very, very slowly. I stopped him several times along the way and asked him to remain still while I performed kegels, tightening and releasing around his cock until I got comfortable. It wasn’t a resounding success the first time, but we kept at it. Each attempt brought us closer and closer to something that would be recognizable as good old fashioned fucking.

We got there after several nights. We had the kind of sex we used to have. I had orgasms that didn’t culminate in tears. I felt like I was in control of my body.

The Solution You Might Not Want to Try

Retraining my vaginal muscles with kegels and dilators gave me back my sex life. But I hadn’t completely cured my vaginismus.

Things had improved, but the one difficulty that remained was the first thrust — that one still hurt.

I could brace myself for that one, take the initial jolt of pain and discomfort knowing that it was the gateway to some very decent fucking. But I was still dismayed that I couldn’t get rid of this part of the issue.

The first thrust was my absolute favorite feeling. Fuck eating chocolate cake and drinking sparkling wine after midnight. Fuck getting my clit licked quickly. Fuck muscle-twitching orgasms. I would trade them all if I could keep the breath-stopping high that I got when Mr. Austin’s dick first penetrated me.

It didn’t matter how many kegels I did, I couldn’t get back to enjoying that initial thrust.

I did eventually find a way to fix that problem, too, but it’s not a solution I would recommend everyone try.

I had a baby.

A few months after giving birth to my first child, I was ready to have sex again. I braced myself for the sharp pain that would kick everything off, but to my surprise, instead, I experienced pure fucking bliss. That incredible feeling I missed so much was back. Sex was no longer painful, and my vaginismus never returned.

Turns out, to fully cure my vagina’s spasms, I had to put it through hell.

Starting from a Place of Hope

When I first experienced the discomfort, the tightening, and the tears, I didn’t know what was happening.

When it got worse, I didn’t know how to get back to having pleasurable sex.

When it lasted months, I didn’t know if I would ever get better.

And that’s a big reason I wanted to write this story.

I’ve heard of women who cry after sex — sorrowful tears, not joyous ones.

I’ve heard of women who can’t find sex pleasurable, who know only pain from penetration.

But when it happened to me, I didn’t know what to do. And I was disturbed by how many seemingly credible professionals were telling women to just put up with the pain, as if sex was necessary but the pleasure was optional.

I know it’s not always vaginismus. Sometimes, you just need more foreplay and lubrication.

And even when it is vaginismus, there could be any number of causes. It could be trauma. It could be anxiety. Or it could seemingly come out of nowhere.

In retrospect, I think I know what caused it for me. Early in my relationship, I didn’t need a lot of foreplay to get ready. My body was always kind of revved up and the endorphin high that comes with new love did the rest. Mr. Austin tugging my pants down was practically enough to do the trick.

But then after a while getting your pants tugged down becomes a little routine — fun, for sure, but just a highlight from Wednesday night. We engaged in all the usual foreplay — stroking, licking, fingering — but it wasn’t enough anymore. I wasn’t aroused enough for the cervix to elevate and move out of the way, so when Mr. Austin penetrated me too early, the head of his cock would slam into the cervix. And, fellas, let me assure you that getting your cervix rammed is very few people’s idea of a good time.

Sex hurt more often than it did before. I started anticipating the pain, and so did my body. The vaginal muscles tightening was a natural, subconscious response to the threat of painful penetration. After a while, it became an ingrained reflex, one that took a lot of time and effort to overcome.

Vaginismus isn’t always caused by some painful or uncomfortable sex, so the solution that worked for me won’t work for everyone. You can’t overcome emotional trauma through kegels.

But if you’re experiencing this issue, reading my story might give you some comfort. Before I learned about the condition, all I felt was despair. But maybe knowing that I overcame vaginismus will help those who suffer from it start from a place of hope.

This post contains affiliate links to dilators. If you click on one and treat yourself to anything from the site, I earn a small commission and you’ll be one step closer to getting your vaginismus under control!

If you liked this article, you should totally check out the Questionable Cosmo Sex Tips (Forks, Marbles, and the Dick Donut) episode of my dirty and intimate sex podcast, Pillow Talk With Emma Austin!

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