My story of pain during sex

Pain during sex is exceedingly common. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists estimates that as many as 75 percent of women in the US will experience it at some point in their lives. So if this includes you, you are by no means alone.

The challenge is that, as owners of vaginas, our response to pain during sex is often to seize up, either mentally or physically or both. This can start a cycle of more friction, less lubrication, and less enjoyment that can be very hard to break.

I struggled with pain during sex for many years, and I want to share my story.

How did it begin?

I don’t know how the pain started.  I know that I had been sexually active for several years, and I was on a birth control pill.  I had recently graduated from college and moved in with my boyfriend.  

At a routine gynecologist visit, the doctor asked me, “Do you have pain during sex?”  As someone who generally had no medical conditions, I surprised myself when I answered, “Yes!”

What caused it?

That doctor’s visit launched what felt like wild goose chase to discover the cause of my pain.  Sticking to the facts, I would say that we never figured out the impetus.  

The short explanation is that, on one or more occasions, sex caused irritation, and then my body took a long time to calm the resulting inflammation.

In my case, the pain came distinctly from two glands that we all have at the back part of the entrance to our vaginas, called the Bartholin’s glands.  These glands are one of the two main sources of vaginal lubrication (the other coming from the vaginal walls).  

The doctor I first told referred me to her head of department, a gynecologist named William Ledger who happened to be studying vaginal pain during sex.  He became my doctor for several years, and he included me in a study that he published.  

Dr. Ledger did genetic tests on me and 400 other women.  He found that those of us with pain were much more likely to have a particular version of a gene that produces something called the interleukin-1 receptor antagonist, which stops inflammation in the body.  

That is, me and most of my suffering compatriots do not shut down certain types of inflammation in our bodies as well as our peers do.

At one point, Dr. Ledger told me to take two fingernails and drag them vertically along my belly.  After a few seconds, I had two red tracks on my abdomen.  As we talked, he told me that those lines linger much longer on people, like me, with this specific gene variation.  He also said the gene type is more common in people of European Jewish descent, which also includes me.  

He then put me on various anti-inflammatory medications, none of which worked very effectively.  Ultimately, the pain seemed to go away on its own.  While I have felt it on occasion since then, it has never been as persistent.

What was it like to live with pelvic pain?

If someone touched one of the swollen glands with a swab, it felt like I had an open sore and someone was rubbing it with something rough.  Bad enough to wince but not cry out.

Since the glands are right at the entrance to the vagina, I couldn’t have sex without them being constantly chafed.  So sex felt like being rubbed with sandpaper at the entrance, whereas it felt normal (good?) one the inside.  But it was hard to feel the pleasure over the pain.

Meanwhile I was living with a young man with a robust sex drive.  We were naive and ill-informed, and both of us believed that it was in some way my duty to fulfill his sexual needs.  He never wanted to hurt me, but he also wanted to have sex.  I didn’t want to be sore, but I also felt a strong internal compulsion to please my man.  When the pain was really bad, we would abstain.  But if the distress was moderate, I would gird my loins, so to speak, lube myself up, and do what I thought I was supposed to do.  

It was so long ago, and I was so uninformed at the time, it’s hard for me to say what kind of psychological impact this had on me.  But I guarantee it wasn’t nothing.

The psychology behind my pain

Many women with pain during intercourse have purely physical reasons, such as endometriosis or other medical conditions. No one should ever assume that pain is “in your head.”

In my case, I think it was a combination. My boyfriend had cheated on me in college, and I had been desperate to win him back.  When he chose me over her, I resolved to be the “perfect girlfriend.”  But the other woman had wanted sex much more readily than I did, and orgasmed far more easily.  So I started tracking how often we had sex in order to ensure that it was “enough,” and I put every brain cell to work during intercourse in an endeavor to climax.  I got to the point where I could orgasm consistently, though with enormous effort.  Sex went from carefree fun to a harrowing chore, with a daunting but overall enjoyable reward at the end.

Meanwhile the birth control pill caused me vaginal dryness, and suppressed my libido.  So I never really had a desire for sex, more of a sense of obligation.  And as a chronic over-achiever who was inevitably impacted by societal messages that great sex should be natural, I buckled down and did my very best to make it look easy.

All this to say, it’s not that far of a stretch to imagine that I might have gotten irritated one day, and in this case I mean physically.  Nor is it surprising that I continued to have sex, failing to give my body the opportunity to heal.  And the fact that it had a long-term impact on my relationship with my boyfriend seems obvious now as well.  

Do you have pain during sex?

There are myriad reasons for pain during sex, and as many individual stories as there are women who suffer.  The solutions can come from doctors, pelvic floor therapists, mental health professionals, sexological body workers, and sex therapists and coaches.  

As a relationship coach, I work with clients to define their boundaries, to practice loving communication of their needs, and to engage in repair conversations.  I can also help you get in touch with what turns you on, and to have more of that in your sex life, whatever form it takes.  For people in a relationship with someone experiencing pain during sex, I support your ability to attune to your partner, and to manage your own disappointment in those moments when they do not want sex.

Want to know more about how coaching could help you?