Everything may sound great in theory, but in practice, anything can happen. An American woman, who wished to remain anonymous, shared her traumatic experience.
“I grew up in a church-going family, and the attitude toward virginity was similar. I believed that losing one’s virginity before marriage was almost as terrible as death, and that the stain of shame would fall on the entire family. And even if defending my virginity was difficult, I had to do it no matter what.
At 15, I signed a pledge in a Protestant church not to have sex before marriage, and some of my peers did the same.
My parents supported this desire in every way, and although I knew that they lived together before the wedding, I did not blame them and understood that they wanted to warn me against such mistakes.
I limited my circle of potential boyfriends to classmates and decided not to even kiss until marriage.
I limit my potential boyfriends to my classmates and decided not to even kiss until marriage! The best part is, I succeeded: we dated for almost a year and a half and kissed for the first time at the altar in church. Friends were worried: how could we know if we were sexually compatible if we hadn’t even tried anything?
Honestly, I never worried about marrying the wrong person: my family always told me everything would be great. After the wedding. I also considered kissing him, but since he was willing to wait, it wasn’t a problem.
And now it’s just funny how naive I was then!
In general, the family had high hopes that I could not betray, and my fiancé and I were so happy to have the opportunity to sacrifice our feelings before the wedding that we didn’t even try to break the promise we made to each other.
Of course, I was expecting amazing sex after the wedding – simply because no one told me that it might not happen.
To all my questions about how things should be, trusted friends, family members, and even doctors said, “It will all happen on its own.” Or, “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out yourself.”
Neither of us had sexual experience, we didn’t discuss it with our married friends, and we weren’t taught sex education at school. To all my questions about how things should be, trusted friends, family members, and even doctors said, “It will happen on its own.” Or, “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out yourself.” And my favorite: “Sex in marriage is wonderful.”
But things didn’t work out that way.
After returning from my honeymoon, during which I cried from pain and resentment, I was diagnosed with vaginismus. This means my intimate muscles tense at the wrong time, making sex very painful or even impossible.
The following months were the darkest period of my life.
After numerous consultations with specialists, I realized that years of abstinence hadn’t helped my subconscious, which had learned that sex was bad. It should be avoided and not even thought about. And when sex became considered “good,” my body hadn’t had time to adapt. I identified all the main causes of vaginismus: a strict upbringing, a lack of sex education, and my own fears.
The further I went down the path of understanding what had happened, the deeper my depression became. I began to blame myself—as a woman and as a wife.
My friends couldn’t help me, and I didn’t blame them. What can you say to someone who’s waited their whole life to satisfy a basic need—and hasn’t?
Over time, I realized that everyone irritated me: my husband, my family, my friends, and everything else that was going on. I wanted so much to reward myself and my husband, but all I ended up with was stress and pain.
The word “sex” is taboo, and many children get information, sometimes quite contradictory, from sources that are not at all likely to provide it.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone. We adults try so hard to shield children from intimate matters that their own bodies stop obeying when the traffic light turns green. The word “sex” is taboo, and many children acquire information, sometimes quite contradictory, from sources completely different from those that could have provided it.
What’s wrong with teenagers learning about the mechanics of sex? That it’s all about love? About the funny things that happen the first time (and not just the fact that it’s incredibly painful)? Of course, there’s a time and place for everything, and they can be found!
My story continued well, and eventually I relaxed and everything worked out. But I wouldn’t want it to continue to be the norm.”
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