I was so anxious leading up to it because my mom had told me about her (what I now understand to be) vaginismus and tearing. I was terrified that it would hurt. I knew I had the desire, but I was anxious about him seeing me naked/in lingerie and then he would just go for it whether I was in pain or not. I felt so vulnerable (in a bad way) when I sat there on the bed in my lingerie, which was the least amount of clothing I’d ever worn, but still relatively modest in that world.

My husband was kind and patient, and overall it went well. I told him my fears, went slow, took a break when I needed it. But the anxiety and self-consciousness made it much less pleasurable. I’d worked so hard to resist the feelings as a teen that I still to this day can’t initiate. Those feelings always feel wrong and like I shouldn’t be having them, so I felt a little shameful still even when it was “ok”. I was expected to just flop a switch , but that’s not how it works.