And the pain and humiliation of my first two attempts at sex made the prospect of any kind of intimacy (even self-exploration) extremely unappealing.
In fact, by the time I was diagnosed, I recoiled even when a man flirtatiously touched my arm or complimented me in a suggestive way.
I work full-time, and after work usually head straight home to watch reality TV, so Tinder seemed like the only way to meet someone in Los Angeles. When it actually came time to plan a date, I almost always made up an excuse.
As I swiped left and right one evening after another while lying alone in my bed, I felt the pit in my stomach grow. There was a possibility I could climax in other ways.
My “sexual experience” consisted of doctors poking and prodding me and men looking disappointed at me for something I couldn’t explain or help.
My doctors told me I could have a sexual experience in other ways.
I studied each guy’s five-picture collection and tried to look for clues in them as to whether or not they would be accepting of my issues. But the feeling of arousal was so often accompanied by emotional distress that I never wanted to try.Romance Only is the world’s premier online dating site for Sex-C adults seeking romance—committed relationships built on affectionate companionship, physical connection and authentic love….without any expectation of intercourse.We at Romance Only stand in this truth: Intimacy fulfills emotional, spiritual and physical needs, and sexual chemistry isn’t limited to intercourse.We connect fellow Sex-C individuals whose form or faith preclude us from engaging in pop-culture’s conception of sex.Romance Only endeavors to continue empowering all who share this commonality with love’s gifts, and ultimately, a richer life and a more promising future.I opened our text conversation and, for the fifth time in a half hour, typed then deleted my excuse for canceling on him. I looked in the mirror and tried to regain my composure. But it feels a lot more complicated when you’re a straight woman with medical conditions that prevent you from having vaginal intercourse. Women’s magazines and online advice columns never taught me how to handle this.I imagined what it would be like to tell this cute, blue-eyed stranger that no matter how loud he made me laugh or how attentively he listened to my childhood stories, I may never be able to have sex with him. I pushed the thought out of my head, erased the text, grabbed my keys, and walked out the door. As I parked my car, I could feel beads of sweat dotting the back of my neck.I also started to date again I’d had boyfriends in high school and dated some in college, and I enjoyed it.I was as shocked and disappointed as they were when – after happily rounding first and second bases – the actual sex stuff turned out to be so excruciating for me.My eyelashes were still damp from the tears I shed while talking on the phone with my best friend.“I’m just not someone who is supposed to be loved,” I told her.