One of my favorite shots in sad movies (albeit heartbreaking), is when the main hero character suddenly has something absolutely terrible happen to them that completely changes their entire life and we see the camera move around them and see the awe or devestation on their face. The light in the background might even become more somber and hell, they’ve probably set it in slow motion. The camera moves in closer to the subject to give them the appearance of feeling claustrophobic. 

Frodo losing Gandalf. 

Tony Stark understanding it’s his fingers that must snap. 

Every movie Florene Pugh is in. She nails these scenes. 

It might not be a pretty scene, but it’s essential to convey the depth our hero feels their soul crushing. 

I felt this way once. 

Perhaps it’s the photographer/artist in me, but when I imagine myself going through my own soul crushing devestation, I imagine the fear that slowly crept into my eyes and the dread that crushed my chest as I inwardly asked myself, “What have I got myself into?” I remember feeling mental concrete walls pressing in on me from all sides as a dark heaviness weighed me down. 

Not many real life moments are just like the movies, but my soul crushing moment really felt cinematic. Maybe you’re thinking of your own life and a moment that felt similar. 

So, what was it? What felt so soul crushing I felt like I was in a movie?

It was my wedding day (“It was my wedding dayyy” Encanto, anyone?). My wedding night, actually. The night I discovered I have vaginismus. 

Vaginismus is… both a mental and physical block women can have when attempting to have any kind of vaginal penetration. It can feel like there’s a closed door or wall at the entrance of the vagina. It can feel very painful to try to insert anything in. Even a pinky finger. It can be treated, but treatment is different for everyone and not immediate (as you’ll see in my story).

I remember going into my hotel bathroom after trying to have sex unsuccessfully and painfully— looking at myself in the mirror, letting real disappointment show on my face instead of the facade I’d put up in front of my husband… I stared at myself and wondered what was happening to me. All of a sudden I dreaded the thought of going on a honeymoon. 

But what was wrong with me? Was sex always going to feel so painful? Would we ever get it in? I was so excited, how could I be failing at something I was excited to do?

The dread filled my tired wedding day eyes and I found myself staring off into space wondering, How did I just have what felt like both the best day and the worst day of my life all in one? 

What I couldn’t see as I stared at myself in the mirror, is the long trail of moments behind me that lead to the painful disappointment and grief exploding inside of me…which is not what I had expected to be exploding inside of me on my wedding night. THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID. 

I guess my story is equally a sad movie and an episode of The Office.

Anyway, my two-step with vaginismus started almost twelve years ago. And now…

I’m sharing about how the past 12 years have unfolded for my marriage and our intimacy. My two biggest motivators for sharing are: 

1) I’m sharing for the women (exploring teenagers, young twenties, virgins in their 30’s and 40’s, post partum moms, and those in the middle of the throws of menopause) who find themselves just as surprised to have their happy sexpectations obliterated by vaginismus… I know how hard that can be. 

2) I’m sharing for all of you who have no idea what it’s like to have vaginismus, but who know someone who does. I guarantee you will encounter someone in your lifetime who has it, or you alrady know someone who secretly has it, they just haven’t felt comfortable sharing about it. I want you to be their best cheerleader and biggest support while they walk the lonely vaginismus road. I want you to be the friend I never had.

I felt so lonely, judged, and afraid the first few years of trying to have sex, it almost broke me. And if sharing my do-si-do with Vaginismus can make you feel less lonely, judged, or afraid, I’m showing up in this space with my story, so you and I can virtually hold hands across the internet and feel one another’s sorrow together. Also, there may be sex jokes every now and then because I just don’t know how to talk about something so frustrating without adding humor. It’s my coping mechanism. 

And my full circle thought for you is this: I feel like you should know that as much as I am deeply moved by sad movies, their fancy camera angles and Oscar nominations… it’s actually the movies with arcs of redemption that bring healing or wholeness to the hero character— those stick with me the most. So this is me, a didn’t-sign-myself-up-for-this hero, sharing my sad story and every bit of it’s redemption arc. 

Just consider me your friendly neighborhood girl friend with vaginismus,

XOXO, Stacie