Welcome back to Pleasure Science, a podcast that makes sexual liberation your new normal by changing how you love and feel loved. 

 

Today I'm talking about something that most people do not expect to hear from a sex expert. Painful sex used to be a regular part of my life. Say what? And this pain broke my heart because it felt like no matter what I did, my body would not body the way other people's did. And let me explain what I mean by that. 

 

So, whether I liked it or not, from a very young age, I knew what good sex was supposed to look like. At least I thought I knew. I watched movies where kissing was so electric that it quickly turned into sex, which looked like perfectly choreographed penetration, where skin and soul become one and both lovers orgasm at the same moment, 30 seconds later. 

 

But when I started having sex, I was 19 years old and it felt nothing like this. I was nervous. I was shy. I'd hardly say a word during sex. And I would just pray that my lover could read my body language for me. I loved kissing, but that never seemed to warm me up enough, because even though I would be enthusiastic and eager for penetration, it always hurt and it left my vulva feeling swollen and raw after. I even started calling it poof-gina because it happened so often.

 

And I just didn't understand why sex wasn't working for me because I thought I was doing everything right. I knew what good sex was supposed to look like and I was copying what I knew. So I figured my body must be the problem. But what I didn't know at the time was that this couldn't be further from the truth. 

 

You might remember from episode one of this season when I shared that sex is a social behavior. We learn sex the same way we learn a language, by watching others, by mimicking, by listening to how others talk about it. We absorb all this information about sex, but unlike all other social behaviors, like learning a language or table manners, sex is kept private.

 

It's not like you sit down in front of two people and get to watch them have sex and learn and talk about them and it's all right in front of you. But all other social behaviors, you are in the presence of the people you are learning from. You get to ask questions. You get to talk to them.

 

But with sex, you're interpreting everything secondhand. So we are only getting the Cliff Notes version, but without the important details. Like how sex is awkward at first and laughing is normal, or that you should communicate about sex a lot and be brave enough to ask for what you want.

 

We never learn that good sex takes time, especially if penetration is on the table. None of the movies I saw growing up ever showed the warm-up, the slowness, the communication that we should expect.

 

So turns out I was learning about sex from a really bad teacher, and we all were. So today I want to tell you about my sex journey and how I had to overcome the idea that I was doing it all wrong.

 

And it all started with a really great guy who was pretty inexperienced. Let's call him Aviv. Now, this might sound crazy, but by the time I met Aviv, I felt like a late bloomer sexually. I was 19 years old, and all my friends had experienced sex very young, and I was the last one. And by the way all my friends talked about sex, it made me so hungry for action and experience. I just wanted to do it already. And so I met Aviv through a friend, and he made me feel beautiful and safe and special.

 

And finally, a night arrived when his house would be empty, and I was really excited. I didn't know at the time if I wanted to be Aviv's girlfriend, but I knew I wanted to have sex with him. 

 

That night, we fumbled through our bodies with curiosity and excitement and a lot of nervous shyness. I didn't say much, but I was getting frustrated because I was finally experiencing sex in real life, but I wasn't getting as turned on as I did when I would watch a sex scene in the movies. Aviv was sweet and thoughtful, but he didn't know how to touch me, and I didn't know what to do or say because I hardly knew how to touch myself.

 

When I realized he had a boner, I decided we should get right to the quote, good part, end quote. Because penetration was the thing I couldn't wait to try.

 

But then we did it and it hurt like hell, and I didn't know why. So I just grinned and bore it and pretended like everything was fine. Obviously, after that, I found myself even more discouraged and frustrated, but I hid it well. I tried sex with Aviv a few more times, but it never got any better. And since I thought I knew what sex was, it never occurred to me to talk to him about it or see if it could improve. 

 

Looking back now, I actually find it fascinating that it never occurred to me that we, as a couple, were maybe doing it wrong together. Back then, my only reasoning was that something had to be wrong with me, which is why when I had my next sexual experience with a new partner, I became even more confused.

 

Now, disclaimer, this part of the story includes sexual assault. And while I will be mentioning it, I won't be discussing this part in detail, because the way that sexual assault impacts your life is big and it's an important topic that warrants its own episode. But it is an important part of my story with pelvic pain. So I'm going to share a little bit about what happened. 

 

A year after I stopped seeing Aviv, I met a boy that I'll call Michael. And Michael was charming and fun and I was instantly drawn to him. It was exciting to be around him and we had tons of friends in common. So I started seeing him around all the time.

 

And I hadn't really wanted to have sex with anyone since Aviv, but Michael made me feel alive, like anything was possible. And so I started to think, maybe I should get back on that horse and try sex again with someone new.

 

And one night, my chance arrived. All our friends were hanging out at a bowling alley, and Michael and I kept sneaking off to kiss and talk. And finally, he asked if I wanted to come back to his place and watch a movie together.

 

I didn't need to think twice about it. I said yes. And when we got back to his place, he turned on a movie that we both knew we were not going to watch. So we started kissing, but as things got hot and heavy, the energy between us started to change.

 

It wasn't something I understood, but I could feel that something was off. And at a certain point, I got scared and I completely shut down. Michael violated me that night, and the next morning I was so sore that I struggled to walk and even sit in my car on the drive home.

 

I remembered feeling sore after having sex with Aviv, but this was easily 10 times worse. But still, my only reference for sex was pain, so I thought this was normal.

 

And at that time, I didn't know that rape or assault could happen between lovers. I was taught by society and from my friends at the time that sexual assault meant a stranger violated you, and that if this happened, you must have done something to deserve it.

 

But with Michael, he wasn't a stranger and I hadn't done anything to deserve his behavior, which is why instead of realizing someone assaulted me, I internalized everything I experienced from both Aviv and Michael, and I decided that my body must be broken. This affected how I had sex for the next few years. 

 

But before I continue, there's a few important points I want to name here. First, I want to be very clear about something, because people can often assume that painful sex means it was all non-consensual.

 

My first time with Aviv was fully consensual sex with a kind lover who really cared about me. That sexual experience was painful and frustrating because I did not have the tools to talk about sex and ask for what I needed. I didn't have the knowledge to have good sex. 

 

Now, my second lover, Michael, was painful and traumatic because it was a violation. And since my only sex education was movies, TV, and gossip, I lumped both experiences together and blamed myself. 

 

The result was that painful sex started happening every time I tried penetration, and receiving oral sex felt like nothing. It was hard for me to have all that attention on my body. And so oral sex only made my body shut down even more. But also, society told me that sex is penetration, and therefore, oral doesn't really count. So I didn't even think to focus on the fact that all pleasure in general wasn't working for me. Instead, I just kept hyper-focusing on penetration.

 

And I learned that I was experiencing something called vaginismus. Now vaginismus is when the muscles around the vulva tighten on their own, and it makes penetration painful, sometimes even impossible. Like, even when you want sex to happen, it won't work, impossible. Your body will shut down and it will make it painful for anything to slide into you. And it's your body's way of responding to fear or tension, sometimes without you even realizing it.

 

So you can think of vaginismus almost like a drawbridge. It slams shut the second it senses danger, even if there isn't actually danger. Your body is just still trying to protect you.

 

Now, with Aviv, my body was not ready for sex, but I forced myself forward. I had taught my body from my first experience with Aviv that I wouldn't listen to my body when it said no. I tried and tried, forcing and forcing, making my body not trust my own judgment. And then with Michael, I was in a bad situation where I could not protect myself.

 

So between both experiences, my brain was confused and protective, literally closing up the moment penetration was going to happen, or shutting down if my lover tried to give me pleasure in any other way, like going down on me.

 

It was a trauma response that came in part from me trying to force my body into action, and in part because someone did hurt me. What was even more confusing during those first few years was that I was actively trying to fix the problem.

 

I saw my OBGYN and my primary care doctor about the pain, but neither were able to help me. It wasn't until I started studying sex almost five years later that I began to get answers.

 

My first huge breakthrough happened in a feminist studies class where we learned about trauma and assault, and I read a personal story of a woman who was violated by her friend. Suddenly, a huge weight got lifted off of my shoulders as I realized the same thing happened to me with Michael. Something inside me clicked, and for the first time, I realized my body needed trauma healing. 

 

And so I started seeing a therapist, but that's when I learned another very important fact. Unless a doctor or a therapist has the word sex in front of their title, chances are they have no sex education. This includes your OBGYN, your urologist, and your therapist. I discovered this the hard way because the therapist I was seeing was not qualified to help me process sexual assault and my confusing relationship with pelvic pain.

 

My therapist seemed to think that us talking about my past was enough. And when I asked my OBGYN for help with painful sex, she just told me to use lube. This advice sucked, okay? Lube did not help my vaginismus, and you guys all know I love lube.

 

And even though I was in therapy, I felt like I was shooting in the dark for answers and hardly seeing results. And so this is when I embarked on my own journey and found ways to slowly heal my chronic pelvic pain.

 

First, I started having sex that didn't include penetration. I realized that penetration was the big T trigger, which meant I needed to explore sex without that trigger. And I know I've said it before, but just to make it really clear for you all, sex doesn't have to include penetration to be sex, and your body can orgasm in over 20 ways. Penetration is just one of those 20.

 

Now, another thing that I did to heal myself was I began using my voice way more. Around this time, I started training to be a dominatrix, which taught me how to talk about sex and ask the hard questions I often avoided.

 

Suddenly, I started seeing real results. I started having sex without the unconscious trigger of penetration, and I taught my body how to relax and receive. I could enjoy sex, and I started having orgasms with other people more and more regularly. Little by little, I started reintroducing penetration back into my sex life, whether it was with a penis, a dildo, or fingers, and with or without a partner. I slowly let my body acclimate back into this sex act it used to fear. 

 

I also realized that speaking up about sex was life-changing. I was reading a book at the time called The Body Keeps the Score, and this book explains how trauma isn't just stored in your mind. Trauma lives in your body, shaping how you feel, react, and connect until it's safely processed and your trauma is released. Not only does the body keep the score, but your voice also keeps the score. Everything you don't say gets internalized and stored in your body.

 

I experienced this personally. The more I talked about sex with my lovers and advocated for myself, the more free and safe I felt. And the more pleasure I had.

 

These wins gave me the courage to seek out somatic healing. Now, somatic refers to any type of healing that is touch or body based. So you could think of healing that uses movement or breath work or massage to gently release stored trauma.

 

Adding somatic healing to what I was already doing was what really pushed the needle forward for me. And in the end, it did take years of work, trying new things, and really being kind to myself to get to a place where sex started to feel great all the time. And the most important part of my healing journey was my commitment to it. 

 

But then a couple of years later, I met a really great guy and stumbled upon a setback that had me spiraling. This guy was super kinky and super fun, but he was very well endowed, and all of a sudden, sex started hurting again. It wasn't his fault and we tried everything, but the size of his penis made my body tense up and react. My vaginismus came back and I was so angry and heartbroken. Little did I know, I was actually about to have the biggest breakthrough yet.

 

I was at dinner with a friend of mine who is a sex therapist, and I was complaining about my painful problem with my big-dicked boyfriend. And she asked, well, have you ever seen a pelvic floor therapist?

 

And at this time, I had heard a little bit about pelvic floor therapy, but not much. So I asked her to tell me more. And my friend explained that a pelvic floor therapist is a doctor who helps you heal pelvic pain and reconnect to the muscles in your groin. They work with your body to release tension, improve blood flow, and retrain your nervous system to feel safe during sex. They don't just treat pain. They teach your body how to feel pleasure again. It's like physical therapy, but for your vulva or your penis. 

 

Well, after my friend told me this, I immediately went looking for a pelvic floor therapist, and I found Dr. Kathy Fry. Within two sessions, my vaginismus was gone in a way it had never been. Just two sessions. This was a huge turning point for me, because I now realized I had everything that I needed to enjoy sex and heal no matter what life threw my way.

 

As many of you know, my journey with painful sex and my inability to orgasm was why I became a sex scholar in the first place. Because I knew there had to be more information out there. And once I figured out what worked, I became passionate about sharing it with other people.

 

I did a lot of work healing myself emotionally, physically, and intellectually. But of all the things that I've learned on my journey with painful sex, this is one of the most important lessons. When your vulva is fully warmed up and ready, you never need to force penetration, because your body will naturally suck a penis, dildo, or a finger inside.

 

And this isn't just true for the vulva, it's true for the entire body. Whether it's oral sex and you're trying to take a penis or dildo down your throat, or it's booty play and you're exploring anal. If you have to push and force, your body is just not warmed up enough. But the second your body is ready, you will know, because your body will literally be sucking your lover inside of you.

 

And the key to helping your body be warmed up isn't just about touch. It's about communication. Remember, the voice keeps the score. If you want sex to go slower or you want to try something new, say it. If your feelings are hurt, say it. And if something is important to you, say it.

 

Your body will not be open to touch or penetration if you are suppressing your voice. So if sex is hurting or simply not working, it might be about how comfortable and safe you feel, which means you need to communicate more.

 

Or, it might be about warming your body up more, doing some more massage and kissing, which again is also solved by communication mixed with touch. And don't underestimate how healing it is to take penetration off the table for a little while. That right there can be a game changer because it takes the pressure off of everyone, and makes you have so many opportunities to explore, because now you can't revert back to that one thing you always knew how to do.

 

The person with a penis doesn't need an erection to perform if we're not doing penetration, so it can also help you if you're struggling with erectile dysfunction or performance anxiety.

 

Another reason I love taking penetration off the table is for the person who is struggling to receive. They can also relax as you explore other things because the thing that's going to trigger them isn't going to happen during that sexual experience. Which shows everyone in general that there is more to sex than penetration, and we can really explore that.

 

Lastly, remember that healing takes time, and that's also okay. It doesn't mean your life is over while you're healing. In fact, some of the best days of your life can happen during your healing journey.

 

It took me 10 years to heal painful sex, but I still experienced tons of fun and love along the way. I trained to be a dominatrix. I dated amazing people. I fell in love with myself. I traveled the world. And now I'm having the best sex of my life.

 

Everyone is unique and everyone has a different physical reality. My reality was overcoming pelvic pain, but for others, it's figuring out how to enjoy sex with arthritis or how to reconnect to your libido while undergoing cancer treatment.

 

And that's just a few examples because there are as many examples as there are people in the world. Everyone is working with a different physical reality, which is why next week we're diving even deeper into this topic.

 

This episode has been all about my experiences with painful sex and obstacles that I encountered as an able-bodied person. But people who are often left out of this conversation are people with disabilities.

 

So join us next week when we will be talking with Andrew Gurza about how everything you've heard about sex and disability is wrong. Andrew proudly identifies as disabled, and he is the author of Queer Cripple, How to Cultivate Queer Disabled Joy and Be Hot While Doing It. It's a really good book, by the way. Everyone go get it. 

 

Now, Andrew is an award-winning disability awareness consultant, and he is the creator of the viral hashtag, Disabled People Are Hot. I can't wait for you to hear this conversation and see how quickly it changes the way you understand your body and everybody else's. So be sure to join us next week. 

 

And in the meantime, you can follow me on Instagram and TikTok at Pleasure Science. And if this episode taught you something new or made you feel more empowered, subscribe and leave a review.

 

Now more than ever, it is important to support sex education. And I know you believe in the mission of this podcast, which is making sexual liberation your new normal in a world that profits off of shame. So please take a moment to leave a rating or a review. And if you're currently hanging out with me on YouTube, leave a comment letting me know something you've overcome. I'll be reading your comments live on Instagram, and I can't wait for you to share your story and make someone smile.

 

And finally, if this episode resonated with you, then the next step on your journey is voicing your desires. Talking about sex protects what you love most. And when you know how to ask for what you want and share boundaries without offending your lover, intimacy stops feeling like guesswork and it starts feeling natural.

 

Voice Your Desires is my guided video journey that shows you how to talk about sex so you can protect what you love most without the miscommunications.

 

Start voicing your desires right now by clicking on the link in the show notes or by going to pleasurescience.com. And remember to use the code pleasuresciencepod at checkout to get 10 percent off.

 

Thank you for joining us this week. And before you go, just a quick reminder for you to experience pleasure in the next 24 hours, whether that's hanging out with cats at a cat cafe or ordering your favorite dessert just for the hell of it. Go do something yummy for yourself. You deserve a reward for all the things you do. 

 

I'll see you next week.

 

This podcast is a Pleasure Science production hosted by me, Nadège, your resident sex scholar. The Pleasure Science podcast is produced by Laura Moore and edited by Camille Furman-Collot.

 

Our music is by Octosound and is licensed under the Pixabay content license. To find out more about pleasure science and to sign up for our online courses, please visit www.pleasurescience.com.