(*Image Credit: Endo Awareness )
In our last post we talked about the pain experienced during a flare-up from endometriosis. For this post, we are shifting our focus to a different kind of pain. As if dealing with the boundless torrent of pain ripping throughout my lower body is not bad enough, to add into that the agonizing pain and complications of having intercourse with endo is enough to frustrate one to no end.
For years, before I knew I had endometriosis, I had experienced painful sex. I always just thought it was because of me, because of the way I was built, because of how tiny I am. I convinced myself that this was my life, that sex would always be painful for me, that I would never be able to experience the pleasure others have. I tried to address the issue with some of my previous partners to no avail. Our society has raised us with the antiquated belief that for women our sole job it to reproduce, that our pleasure matters little, but for men their pleasure and orgasm is paramount. The porn industry hasn’t helped that mindset either as it gives men unrealistic expectations within the bedroom. As I got older, I learned it is difficult enough for a woman who doesn’t have endometriosis to achieve an orgasm, which meant for me that is basically an impossible task. Even something such as masturbation yields little to no pleasure for me because of the pain my body experiences at all times.
Having sex with someone who suffers from endo is complicated experience filled with a lot of trial and error, with lots of foreplay, and excessive amounts of lube. What does and doesn’t work changes with each partner as no two people are built the same. It is a lot of exploring different positions, adding pillows, switching angles to find the right ones. For many of us, any chance of us obtaining any discernable pleasure comes from a heavy emphasis on foreplay. The more time we spend getting aroused without insertion, the better chance we have of that arousal continuing throughout the entire time. Another issue that many of us run into, is how quickly we dry out, no matter how much we may be enjoying ourselves. Far too often, partners do not wish to stop in the middle to add more lube as they feel it kills the mood, but for us we don’t have a choice. Many of my most painful experiences with intercourse were a direct result of the friction caused by my dryness. So often men get into a specific rhythm or get so close to their climax, that little else matters to them in those moments.
At this point, I have all but given up on the idea of ever achieving true pleasure, of experiencing an orgasm, of having sex without pain. I have never had a partner who was willing to work with me, with my limitations of my body, of the ways in which endometriosis effects my body to find what feels right, what feels great, what feels pleasurable. Far too often, they may start off seeming to be willing to work with me, but then after a short period of time, they stop caring about my pleasure and focus solely on theirs. Over the years, I have learned to just bury my head in the pillow to stifle the cries of agony, to wipe the tears from my face, to make my suffering as silent and unnoticeable as possible. Each time, with each partner though I hold out hope that just maybe they will value my own pleasure as much as theirs, yet that is never the case. It shouldn’t be like this. I’ve talked to far too many women, who share the same stories as I have, of painful sex, of partners who seem to care little for them or their pleasure. Far too often, we are silenced because heaven forbid you give them advice, heaven forbid you try to assert yourself. I am sure there are those of you out there who are saying, “just be assertive, just say you don’t like it, find better partners, etcetera.” While that is great in theory for those of us with anxiety or whom have survived abusive relationships, using our voice and confrontation are not always viable options for us. Although, in recent months I have become far more comfortable with using my voice.
By writing the posts, sharing my story it is my hope that it helps myself and others like me feel comfortable and safe to open the dialogue between them and their partners. It is my sincerest hope, that with the series I am doing on endometriosis, life and the complications that come with it, will help to raise awareness, to help those who suffer with this horrible disease to not feel so alone, it will get people talking. I know for me, personally it is incredibly cathartic to write these posts, to share a little bit of what daily life is like with endometriosis, to find my ability to use my voice to ensure that my sexual experience is that of pleasure rather than pain.
As Always My Beautiful Badass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses,
I Hope You Have A Magical Day