Ever since the revolution I had with myself, as I was reaching the age of 21, I wanted to have “real” sex. I always felt “incomplete” since I never had a penis go inside me. The peer pressure, and the pressure from boys who did not consider sex without penetration as valid, did not help. I always thought to myself: why was I unable to do it, when all my friends could?

I discovered that I had vaginismus at that age. I was seeing a therapist in hopes of working on my depression, but one thing led to another and we ended up talking about my sexual history. He suggested I might have vaginismus, and recommended that I see a gynecologist. After I asked the gynecologist about the solution, he told me that it was best that I wait until I get engaged. He said that in our culture, the safety of getting engaged would diminish my psychological response to penetration as I would stop feeling like I am doing anything wrong. Very professional indeed.

What is vaginismus then?

Vaginismus is that horrible feeling I get when I try to stick anything inside my vagina. The bigger the item is, the worse the feeling gets. It is due to the muscular contraction of the vaginal walls.

When I was going through my process of self-liberation, abolishing the concept of virginity in my mind, I decided I wanted to have sex, penetration specifically, through a random hookup. It didn’t work, on several occasions. Sex felt very eerie with strangers. I decided to give up at some point, thinking that this is not worth it. We all own our bodies, so who cares if I did not want something inside me?

Well, guys do.

Why does it happen?

It could be one of many reasons; it can be linked to trauma, sexual abuse, fear, sexual and urethral infections, and so on…

After a physiological check-up, it was clear that the reasons were purely psychological.

After a while, I met other men, but the challenge persisted: isn’t it expected to have vaginal sex in a hook up or any casual sexual encounter? That’s the norm, and that’s a consensus even in many progressive circles. How do I tell them about my limit? How do I explain that I don’t believe nor care about my virginity, yet I cannot have penetrative sex? Why would a man even care to understand about my issue?

It was distressing and dreadful with some people I met. I have been with guys who claim that whatever we are having cannot be called sex. Instead, it is nameless, meaningless, and incomplete. I have also been with other men who do not show any form of compassion when I tell them about my condition and its roots. Those are the worst. On numerous instances, guys tried to penetrate me when they are on top. I would squirm and push, and then they would look at me in deep shock. I could see how angry or disappointed they are. They do not believe that it is an actual condition, and they think that I use this as a turn on. They think I am just a bit shy or timid and that they will fix it with their magic wand.

After after sexual encounter, I used to cry, a lot. I would feel humiliated: the disassociation between my body parts from my beliefs was very condescending to me. I was made to feel like I was nothing, that I am of no value in the bedroom, that I haven’t had real sex yet, and that I am that 24-year-old virgin.

In 2020, after the start of the crises, the pandemic, and the complete crash of Lebanon, my stress levels increased immensely as many of you. I wanted to have hardcore penetrative sex and I did not know the correlation. I never cared about peer pressure. I never felt jealous of my friends who had sex, but there is something about the act that feels carnal, like an exercise that can ease my stress. It never was about the orgasm, because I would orgasm hard from my oral sex. It never felt like something was missing in regards to that.

For that, I decided to see another gynecologist. I knew a doctor with a very good reputation, a progressive mindset and a caring attitude towards such issues. He was quite nice. He didn’t ask me if I was married, and didn’t utter the word “virginity”. He asked me if I was aware of any trauma but the question felt breezy. He didn’t dwell on it or made me feel traumatized and in need of fixing. His tone was not paternal. We spoke about it in a casually and smoothly. After that, he directly told me about my options. I could use dilators to exercise with and upsize gradually when I feel comfortable until I reach an average penis size. He also told me about the option of Botox injections that would relax my muscles for an average of 6 to 9 months, but he also clarified that it’s a bit invasive, uncomfortable and temporary. All these options were of course only options if I did not want to try exercising with an actual person.

I romanticize sex in a way, so I realized that the issue probably is in the fact that I feel uncomfortable sexually with a guy who does not flirt with me or makes me feel pretty, funny, and lovable. That was never the case… So with no actual candidates that can provide me with those feelings, I figured that I have to do it myself.

I ordered dilators from a website called Velvi in France and I asked my friend to bring them with her during her New Year’s visit. They were finally here. I thought to myself that I shouldn’t be super sober. I had a bit of a drink to relax. I felt so lulled. I didn’t think of work, of guys who rejected me, or of past sexual experiences. I started trying the dilators and I reached four sizes, the last being very close to an average penis width. The feeling I had at that moment was pride, like nothing was wrong with me, and that my energy wanted to get there, but other mens’ energies were standing in the way.

Excitingly, I contacted someone I was having regular sex with and told him that I want to try this with him. After foreplay, he started fingering me, but it didn’t feel right because I started having intrusive thoughts. That person was married and he probably doesn’t want to be romantic with me. I never got that vibe from him and I couldn’t stop thinking about that. My muscles had to contract: I was not feeling what I wanted to feel. Instead, it felt very physical, like someone doing a puzzle. At that point I didn’t continue. Having problems with a finger probably meant that a penis will not fit inside or feel comfortable.

After that event, I didn’t try it with any man. I am practicing every once in a while, with a dilator.  Always remember to use lube or natural oils. They help. I don’t feel pressured to do this anymore with someone else. I just have to go through that awkward conversation that sets boundaries with men though before going to bed. I also don’t feel like a failure. I am very willing to wait for great sex, for a penis that would actually feel good. I know that this is not homework.

Don’t feel ashamed as well if you romanticize sex. It’s also not wrong to not find yourself in hook up culture. You should know that what you do with your body parts and what you allow others to, what makes you feel horny and what makes you feel uncomfortable, all should come from you a hundred percent. When I let others influence my perspective, everything felt worse. It made me feel incomplete and I shouldn’t. Men should never define what “sex” is for us. They have to know that not everything has to involve their dick, and that sex can revolve around any body part, item, idea, word, or feeling….