When I finally was able to have sex for the first time, it happened in a way that I had always wanted, however, I hadn't realized I had any hopes or preferences. Looking back I know now the factors I valued the most: I was older, I was with someone I loved and who I knew loved me in return, and I felt more than ready and eager. There was never a wish in me for it to be magical or perfect (especially after my previous sexual encounters with other men), but I did want it to be loving, supported, and….special.
T and I had been together for about 9 months and had been attempting to insert his penis into my vagina for about 4 months (we were able to see each other once, maybe twice a month for a few days due to the distance). We had never gotten very far with these attempts, since my vaginismus was still strong and the size of his penis was on the larger end of my dilator spectrum. We would try, but never get more than about an inch inside.
The week before his graduation I went to visit and as always, since he went to a military academy, it was necessary for him to get us a hotel room so we could sleep together. I will always remember what that hotel room looked like-small, quaint, and old fashioned. There is a snapshot in my head, down to which side of the bed I slept on and what the bathroom lighting was like. We were happy to be together and alone in our room (each hotel always felt like a mini home to me) and as always we couldn’t keep our hands or bodies apart. With all the excitement of being physically together once again, we decided to attempt penetration, and as always there was very little pressure because I knew he would stop as soon as I said enough. Any pressure at all, was mostly directed toward me by myself, because of my eagerness to please T.
As an important side note, T and I always used a condom, even when just attempting penetration. It was something that we both required and was never questioned at any point while we were together.
Lying on my back, feet together, knees apart, adjusting the lips of my vagina, making the entrance as open as possible. This to avoid any pain or discomfort at the start, which would always cause the inner muscles to immediately clench. He would hover above me, watching and waiting, allowing my hands to guide the tip of his penis into the entrance of my vagina, at the angle I found most comfortable.
Me saying things like “Wait, wait wait.” “Hold On.” “Okay.”
Him patiently gazing down at me.
Once through the entrance I told him to start pushing. ever. so. slowly. “Gently.”
He checking in with, “Are you okay?” and “Are you in pain?” if I made any sound at all.
I could feel his penis going in, but usually I could never feel how far, since everything felt huge to me. This occasion was different and I knew his penis was significantly further in. It felt tight deeper inside, but, by focusing my energy in a way that felt like meditating on my vagina, I managed to keep the vaginismus calm and the muscles relaxed in about half of the passageway. I would estimate that he got about 4 to 5 inches inside and as an experiment, similar to the way I used my dilator, we had T remove and insert his penis a number of times.
It was slow at first, gradually getting faster and more confident. Never fully inside. It went on for quite a while.
It is fascinating to me that T and I could have been in touch enough in the moment to know just how far was safe for him to go inside. His ability to control himself, even during arousal, when he wanted, and my ability to remain relaxed and fully trusting, allowed it to happen. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment, the months of pent up sexual desire, our care for each other, but during this experience T was able to reach orgasm.
Funny enough I didn’t consider this to be my first time having sex, since my vagina had still not been able to relax enough to allow his entire penis inside. But it was so exciting! I asked him question after question. “How far in did it get?” “Do you count that? As sex?” “How do you feel?” Hoping he would say “happy.”
I certainly felt happy, because here was proof that sex was possible, even if I got no further.
A few hours later we tried again and this time due to my boost in confidence and all our patient work together, T was able to fit his entire penis inside my vagina and had another orgasm. I did not, however the sex did not hurt, in fact I found it invigorating and enjoyable, which came as a huge relief. All my internal fears that sex might be uncomfortable for the rest of my life due to the vaginismus were proved false.
In my mind, the act itself was as perfect as it could get and better than I could have imagined. No stress, no frustration, because success took us both by surprise. We never expected to reach our goal that night.
After T rolled away to fall asleep, exhausted after a long week and our night together, I couldn’t sleep at all because I was so thrilled and grateful. I went in to the bathroom and cried a bit from the shock and joy of those hours. In the moment I didn’t want to recognize it, but I was also sad to be celebrating what was and still is one of the biggest triumphs of my personal life, alone on a bathroom floor. Sometimes it feels like so many moments in life have happened on the bathroom floor. Instead of being with T, I texted my mom, sister, and two of my closest friends, and wrote in my journal, to commemorate.
I barely slept and had to spend the majority of the following day with T’s family, a family I always loved and had so much fun with (especially his siblings). I knew that this was an important time for T with all the festivities leading up to graduation and him becoming an officer. As grateful as I was to be part of it all, at that moment I wanted to be just me and T, or at least with my own family and friends. It was a big day for me, and I tend to get very emotional when big events occur in life. I wanted to have a little celebration, but instead couldn’t even tell the people I was with, who had no idea about the struggle of the past months and years of my life, all culminating in the night before.
As I said at the beginning of this post, I never expected everything to be perfect the first time, but I did want it to be special. I was content with the sex itself, but very disappointed with the aftermath. All I yearned for was T to remember. In all the haste of his life, for him to check in and remind me that we were happy. With everything going on and the way he acted, it felt as though nothing extraordinary had happened at all. He didn’t acknowledge what we had shared. No knowing smile. No little squeeze of my hand. No whispers. No gesture.
I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, especially after everything we had been through together, and just how patient he had been. Maybe it was just the fact that sex was not new for him. We spoke about it when I got back to New York, and though he apologized I knew he couldn’t understand how I felt.
My good friend, knowing what a critical time this was, bought me a simple, silver pendant in the shape of a celtic infinity knot. I added it to a necklace of special memories, that I wear everyday. She knew that this was about so much more than my relationship. I had found a cure and won what felt like a battle against my own body. A fight that had been going on for most of my life. Through her small gesture she gave me what T did not or could not….she celebrated my personal triumph and reminded me that what I had accomplished was something to take pride in and remember forever.
T and I had been together for about 9 months and had been attempting to insert his penis into my vagina for about 4 months (we were able to see each other once, maybe twice a month for a few days due to the distance). We had never gotten very far with these attempts, since my vaginismus was still strong and the size of his penis was on the larger end of my dilator spectrum. We would try, but never get more than about an inch inside.
The week before his graduation I went to visit and as always, since he went to a military academy, it was necessary for him to get us a hotel room so we could sleep together. I will always remember what that hotel room looked like-small, quaint, and old fashioned. There is a snapshot in my head, down to which side of the bed I slept on and what the bathroom lighting was like. We were happy to be together and alone in our room (each hotel always felt like a mini home to me) and as always we couldn’t keep our hands or bodies apart. With all the excitement of being physically together once again, we decided to attempt penetration, and as always there was very little pressure because I knew he would stop as soon as I said enough. Any pressure at all, was mostly directed toward me by myself, because of my eagerness to please T.
As an important side note, T and I always used a condom, even when just attempting penetration. It was something that we both required and was never questioned at any point while we were together.
Lying on my back, feet together, knees apart, adjusting the lips of my vagina, making the entrance as open as possible. This to avoid any pain or discomfort at the start, which would always cause the inner muscles to immediately clench. He would hover above me, watching and waiting, allowing my hands to guide the tip of his penis into the entrance of my vagina, at the angle I found most comfortable.
Me saying things like “Wait, wait wait.” “Hold On.” “Okay.”
Him patiently gazing down at me.
Once through the entrance I told him to start pushing. ever. so. slowly. “Gently.”
He checking in with, “Are you okay?” and “Are you in pain?” if I made any sound at all.
I could feel his penis going in, but usually I could never feel how far, since everything felt huge to me. This occasion was different and I knew his penis was significantly further in. It felt tight deeper inside, but, by focusing my energy in a way that felt like meditating on my vagina, I managed to keep the vaginismus calm and the muscles relaxed in about half of the passageway. I would estimate that he got about 4 to 5 inches inside and as an experiment, similar to the way I used my dilator, we had T remove and insert his penis a number of times.
It was slow at first, gradually getting faster and more confident. Never fully inside. It went on for quite a while.
It is fascinating to me that T and I could have been in touch enough in the moment to know just how far was safe for him to go inside. His ability to control himself, even during arousal, when he wanted, and my ability to remain relaxed and fully trusting, allowed it to happen. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment, the months of pent up sexual desire, our care for each other, but during this experience T was able to reach orgasm.
Funny enough I didn’t consider this to be my first time having sex, since my vagina had still not been able to relax enough to allow his entire penis inside. But it was so exciting! I asked him question after question. “How far in did it get?” “Do you count that? As sex?” “How do you feel?” Hoping he would say “happy.”
I certainly felt happy, because here was proof that sex was possible, even if I got no further.
A few hours later we tried again and this time due to my boost in confidence and all our patient work together, T was able to fit his entire penis inside my vagina and had another orgasm. I did not, however the sex did not hurt, in fact I found it invigorating and enjoyable, which came as a huge relief. All my internal fears that sex might be uncomfortable for the rest of my life due to the vaginismus were proved false.
In my mind, the act itself was as perfect as it could get and better than I could have imagined. No stress, no frustration, because success took us both by surprise. We never expected to reach our goal that night.
After T rolled away to fall asleep, exhausted after a long week and our night together, I couldn’t sleep at all because I was so thrilled and grateful. I went in to the bathroom and cried a bit from the shock and joy of those hours. In the moment I didn’t want to recognize it, but I was also sad to be celebrating what was and still is one of the biggest triumphs of my personal life, alone on a bathroom floor. Sometimes it feels like so many moments in life have happened on the bathroom floor. Instead of being with T, I texted my mom, sister, and two of my closest friends, and wrote in my journal, to commemorate.
I barely slept and had to spend the majority of the following day with T’s family, a family I always loved and had so much fun with (especially his siblings). I knew that this was an important time for T with all the festivities leading up to graduation and him becoming an officer. As grateful as I was to be part of it all, at that moment I wanted to be just me and T, or at least with my own family and friends. It was a big day for me, and I tend to get very emotional when big events occur in life. I wanted to have a little celebration, but instead couldn’t even tell the people I was with, who had no idea about the struggle of the past months and years of my life, all culminating in the night before.
As I said at the beginning of this post, I never expected everything to be perfect the first time, but I did want it to be special. I was content with the sex itself, but very disappointed with the aftermath. All I yearned for was T to remember. In all the haste of his life, for him to check in and remind me that we were happy. With everything going on and the way he acted, it felt as though nothing extraordinary had happened at all. He didn’t acknowledge what we had shared. No knowing smile. No little squeeze of my hand. No whispers. No gesture.
I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, especially after everything we had been through together, and just how patient he had been. Maybe it was just the fact that sex was not new for him. We spoke about it when I got back to New York, and though he apologized I knew he couldn’t understand how I felt.
My good friend, knowing what a critical time this was, bought me a simple, silver pendant in the shape of a celtic infinity knot. I added it to a necklace of special memories, that I wear everyday. She knew that this was about so much more than my relationship. I had found a cure and won what felt like a battle against my own body. A fight that had been going on for most of my life. Through her small gesture she gave me what T did not or could not….she celebrated my personal triumph and reminded me that what I had accomplished was something to take pride in and remember forever.