
Dating When Sex Hurts: Talking to Potential Sexual Partners About Chronic Vulvovaginal or Pelvic Pain
|
Time to read 11 min
|
Time to read 11 min
Author’s note: I’m so deeply grateful to all the people who shared their very personal experiences with me for this article. Thank you for trusting me with your stories. Additional thanks to the folks at Tight Lipped who put us in touch with their incredible community and shared their own experiences for this article.
For most of us, dating brings out both the giddy anticipation of connecting with someone new and the nerves that come with putting yourself out there. For those of us living with conditions that cause chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain – the trepidation of dating is intensified. These conditions can take many forms, including:
Vulvodynia
Vestibulodynia
Vaginismus
Endometriosis
Adenomyosis
Fibroids
Polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS)
Pelvic inflammatory disease (PID)
Because our bodies don’t respond to sexual stimulation the way other bodies do, and to avoid painful experiences, our dating lives are haunted by the fact that, eventually, we have to tell potential sexual partners that we have chronic medical conditions that make sexual activity difficult.
Sexual activity that both (or all) partners enjoy usually requires at least a quick conversation about preferences, turn ons, and turn offs. While some people can get away without having these discussions, we can’t avoid them. And the conversations we have to have go way beyond preferences, turn on, and turn offs. Our conversations have the potential to take a new connection from exciting and fun to serious and uncomfortable.
Of course, these conversations are tough, and they can bring up deeply rooted feelings of inadequacy and shame. Then there’s the actual logistics: When do you bring it up? What do you say? How do you deal with people’s responses?
To get some answers, I asked sex therapists, sex educators, and several people who live with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain. Here are the top tips they shared with me.
Table of Contents
– Suzannah Weiss, sex therapist, resident sexologist for Fleshy, and author of Eve's Blessing: Uncovering the Lost Pleasure Behind Female Pain
Nearly every person I spoke to for this article talked about how living with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain meant struggling with shame and the belief that they were somehow broken, inadequate, or unworthy of connection. But they also told me about the transformative experiences they had when they confronted these feelings and beliefs.
Laurie Barber, who lives with vaginismus, told me that her turning point came when she realized that shame around chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain was deeply rooted in sexism and misogyny.
“We’ve all grown up watching erectile dysfunction commercials on TV for 25 years and yet people with vulvovaginal pain conditions are still expected to cower in shame and silence so we don’t inconvenience men, or make them uncomfortable, or ask them to rethink sex outside of their own experience in a world that centers them and caters to their pleasure,” she said. “I refuse to bring that energy into my dating life. Those of us with pelvic pain conditions are not the ones who are broken — the systems of our society that put penetration on a pedestal and dismiss our pain are what’s broken.”
Another woman I spoke to said that the key to letting go of the shame was understanding that everyone experiences pleasure differently.
“Not everyone lives with chronic pelvic pain, but everyone has their own preferences, boundaries, and experiences around sex and pleasure,” she shared. “I see my pain as part of my broader sexual context, rather than it being separate and something to be ashamed of.”
For others, contextualizing chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain as a medical condition that needs reasonable accommodations helped them overcome feelings of shame and inadequacy. As Weiss pointed out, “...it obviously wasn't your choice that you have that condition or that pain.”
Processing and letting go of these feelings and beliefs can look like:
Regardless of how you go about processing, doing so will make conversations with potential sexual partners a bit easier. You’ll be able to advocate for what you need instead of lowkey apologizing for what you can’t do.
The truth is, there is no “right time” to tell a new potential sexual partner about your chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain. It all depends on your approach to sexual activity and what you want from your potential sexual partner.
If you want to date someone longer term, you might not want to bring it up on the first date. And that’s fine! You have time. Though, one woman said she actually found it enjoyable and empowering to bring up her condition on the first date.
“It’s been liberating to be open about something that’s shaped so much of my life. Plus, it can actually be fun—and even bonding—to talk about sex and pleasure early on. Sex is such a meaningful part of a healthy relationship for me, so I put it on the table with other important topics like values and intentions.”
If you’re looking for a hookup or you’re a go-home-on-the-first-date kind of cutie (we stan!), you’ll want to have the conversation much sooner.
Though each person I spoke to had their own preferences about exactly when to have the conversation, they all agreed that things tend to go better when you have the conversation before you head to the bedroom. Jennifer Vargas, a Sex and Pleasure Educator who also lives with chronic pelvic pain, shared a personal anecdote that demonstrates why the timing is important.
“I’ve experienced sex with someone who I had a conversation with and our time together was wonderful!” she told me. “I also experienced sex with someone who I didn’t have a chance to talk with beforehand and ended up sharing about my experience and crying when our clothes were off!”
Related Articles
Telling a potential sexual partner about your condition doesn’t have to be complicated.
Barber told me, “My dating life got easier when I embraced vaginismus as something I was proud to talk about rather than an embarrassing secret that I was forced to share. For a few years, anytime I was dating someone new and it was escalating towards physical intimacy, behind all the excitement and endorphins, there was always a sense of dread looming over me, knowing that I would soon have to explain to yet another straight man that they weren’t going to get to have penetrative sex with me — a crazy concept that can break their brains.”
Several of the people I talked to echoed Barber’s experience. They told me that, over time, they learned to introduce the topic in a really simple way. When things with a new person started moving toward sexual activity or before things got too heated in the bedroom, they’d ask for a pause and say something like, “Before we go any further I just need to tell you about this medical condition I have.”
From there, the advice nearly everyone shared was to stick to the facts about your condition and be really clear that it’s a medical issue that needs to be accommodated like any other medical issue. If you had a heart condition, it would be ridiculous for a partner to ask you to do CrossFit with them. And you wouldn’t apologize for not being able to go with them. Many people living with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain find they have to think of their condition the same way.
Anna, who’s been living with vaginismus for as long as she can remember, told me, “Never apologize! This is part of you just like any other aspect of your life.”
One of the biggest fears people with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain have around dating is rejection. And, unfortunately, it’s not an unfounded fear. In a society that glorifies sex, especially penetrative sex, telling someone that you can’t have sex the way they expect or desire leaves you vulnerable to a painful rejection. How a potential sexual partner reacts will give you all the information you need.
Notte sums it up perfectly: “If they respond badly, that's not someone you wanted to f**k anyway.”
Bonnie Gross, the writer and producer of Lady Parts, an autobiographical film about her experiences dating with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain, expanded on this advice.
“As scared as I was, the right person isn't going to be scared of it,” she told me. “If somebody automatically doesn't want to hear about it, they're never going to want to hear about it. They're never going to want to learn about it or try to make it work.”
Weiss added the important reminder that their reaction isn’t really about you at all. “If somebody judges you for your sexual preferences or sexual limits or for having a chronic illness, then that usually reflects an insecurity in that other person.”
Though a few of the people I talked to shared horror stories about people who reacted poorly when they shared about their condition, the majority told me that the conversation never went as poorly as they thought it would. For many of them, the conversation has gone pretty well more than once!
As one woman put it, “I’ve consistently been surprised by how much care and curiosity partners have shown when I’m honest. I know that’s not everyone’s experience, but I’m really grateful it’s been mine.”
Living with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain might make familiar sexual activities difficult or impossible, but that definitely doesn’t mean you have to miss out on sexual pleasure. In fact, your condition can present a unique opportunity to experiment with different sexual activities and change the way you talk about sex with your partners.
Gross suggested framing chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain as an opportunity for sexual creativity.
Many people found that living with pelvic pain opened the door to exploring sex in new ways:
“In the past I used to call it this big problem and I’d build up and be like, ‘Oh no, I have to tell them I can't do this one thing.’ And instead I'm now like, ‘Hey, I can't do this one thing, but how fun is it going to be to try to be creative and find other ways to find pleasure together?’”
Many of the people I spoke to had great success with this approach and told me that their dates often found the idea of experimenting with new forms of pleasure extremely sexy.
And as Barber put it, “If [they] can’t comprehend the idea that pleasurable, passionate, satisfying sex can exist without penetration, then [they’re] the one who’s not sexually compatible enough for me, and honestly, [they’re] just boring and lack creativity.”
Finding pleasure through chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain also offers the opportunity to completely redefine sex and change the point of your sexual encounters. This is what happened for Jessica and her partner.
“Sex is whatever you say sex is, and as long as you are effectively communicating this meaning and all parties are consenting, then congratulations, you are having sex,” she told me. “Often, we make reaching climax the goal in sex, and this can add a lot of unnecessary stress and take you further from your goal… My partner and I… ask each other: ‘What was your favorite part?’ This simple question serves multiple purposes. It allows us to communicate what we find most pleasurable; it gives us a chance to relive the pleasurable moments. Then you can make a mental note about what you and your partner find pleasurable.”
Though it’s not exactly dating advice, I have to share one more thing the people I talked to shared with me – their hope. Living with chronic vulvovaginal and/or pelvic pain is hard, especially when you’re looking for sexual and/or romantic connections.
But your experience can change if you want it to.
After finally getting a proper diagnosis, Gross discovered that there was a solution for her pain.
“I [got] a vestibulectomy in 2016, and that [took] away about 90% of my pain, I would say. And then I did pelvic floor PT for a year. I used dilators. I did the whole journey. I got my first partner kind of after that, and I had pain-free sex for the first time.”
Many of the other people I spoke to also recommended pelvic floor physical therapy, saying it helped reduce their pain or even experience pain-free sex.
A few people also mentioned sexual health devices, like Kiwi. Notte called the device “life-changing,” while Sarah, who lives with vulvodynia, said the Kiwi has added both fun and function to her bedroom.
Depending on your condition, these treatments might not be the right fit. But there are options out there that can help, and pain-free sex is possible.
And you know what? It’s also fine if you don’t want it to change, right now or ever. If you’re satisfied with your life and your sex life—whatever it looks like—then rock on!
The point is, if you want your experience with painful sex to change, hold onto hope. There’s probably a treatment out there that will work for you.
Dating with chronic vulvovaginal or pelvic pain adds unique challenges, especially around conversations about sex, boundaries, and pleasure.
Experts and people with lived experience share strategies for letting go of shame, speaking openly, and keeping conversations clear and fact-based.
Timing matters: discussing your condition before things get physical helps set expectations and reduces stress.
A partner’s reaction is telling. Supportive responses signal compatibility, while dismissive ones show they’re not worth your time.
Pain doesn’t mean the end of pleasure. It can be an opportunity to explore creativity and redefine sex.