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If you often find yourself using the phrase, "too much information," you might want to skip this.
I'm nearing the end of my period, and yesterday I tried again to use tampons, because I'm supposed to be trying to accustom myself to having stuff in there - I've never managed tab-a-in-slot-b sex because, no matter how much I love or trust my partner, everything tenses and slams shut when he attempts penetration.
And damn, but they hurt. Am I just really cowardly? According to my gynecologist, everything's physically normal, and all I can do is practice until I'm desensitized. And no, I was never raped or sexually abused. I'm just a really tense person, particularly about touch - I remember the revulsion I felt as a child when I had to hold anyone's hand, although it was the sweaty reality of human skin that bothered me, rather than the idea: I enjoyed it when I could make the neighbourhood cats stretch themselves and purr with my stroking, and I sometimes used to hold pillows in my bed at night and pretend they were my parents, although I squirmed when my real parents hugged me.
Nowadays, I'm quite happy to hold people I like - puberty did have that effect - but some spots, mostly "erogenous zones" but also until recently, my wrists ('cos I can feel my veins there, near the skin) are guarded assiduously by my reflexes even when I have ne reason to be scared.
A pamphlet in the doctor's office did at least remind me of the delights of bilingualism (I'm in Canada) by demonstrating a truism about the difference between French and English: in English, the title was "When Sex Hurts." Harsh, short, to the point. The French title was the melancholy, yearning, "Quand Faire l'Amour Est Douleureux." I mean, I can hear Jacques Brel singing that on a stage somewhere:
Quand faire l'amour est douleureux
Quand l'étroite passage
refuse les messages
que mon coeur y envoie
Quand l'âme veule s'ouvrir
avec soupirs
mais le corps se montre trop peureux
Quand faire l'amour....est douleureux
I'm nearing the end of my period, and yesterday I tried again to use tampons, because I'm supposed to be trying to accustom myself to having stuff in there - I've never managed tab-a-in-slot-b sex because, no matter how much I love or trust my partner, everything tenses and slams shut when he attempts penetration.
And damn, but they hurt. Am I just really cowardly? According to my gynecologist, everything's physically normal, and all I can do is practice until I'm desensitized. And no, I was never raped or sexually abused. I'm just a really tense person, particularly about touch - I remember the revulsion I felt as a child when I had to hold anyone's hand, although it was the sweaty reality of human skin that bothered me, rather than the idea: I enjoyed it when I could make the neighbourhood cats stretch themselves and purr with my stroking, and I sometimes used to hold pillows in my bed at night and pretend they were my parents, although I squirmed when my real parents hugged me.
Nowadays, I'm quite happy to hold people I like - puberty did have that effect - but some spots, mostly "erogenous zones" but also until recently, my wrists ('cos I can feel my veins there, near the skin) are guarded assiduously by my reflexes even when I have ne reason to be scared.
A pamphlet in the doctor's office did at least remind me of the delights of bilingualism (I'm in Canada) by demonstrating a truism about the difference between French and English: in English, the title was "When Sex Hurts." Harsh, short, to the point. The French title was the melancholy, yearning, "Quand Faire l'Amour Est Douleureux." I mean, I can hear Jacques Brel singing that on a stage somewhere:
Quand faire l'amour est douleureux
Quand l'étroite passage
refuse les messages
que mon coeur y envoie
Quand l'âme veule s'ouvrir
avec soupirs
mais le corps se montre trop peureux
Quand faire l'amour....est douleureux
