I love my girlfriend — so why can’t my vagina get the message?

Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger.

This week, we hear from Maggie*, a postgraduate student from Manchester.

Maggie, who is queer, says she’s ‘happily taken’, in a long-distance relationship with her girlfriend, Lucy*.

The 24-year-old had only recently come out when she met Lucy in a lesbian bar, and prior to them coupling up, she’d only had sex with men.

While she wasn’t a virgin, she says she wasn’t particularly sexually active, adding: ‘It wasn’t until I met Lucy that I wanted to have sex.’

However, it meant that when the pair did start sleeping together, Maggie uncovered a problem: she has vaginismus.

‘The first time we slept together, the pain was so severe that I physically couldn’t hide it,’ she says.

Now, Maggie says her relationship with sex is complicated. ‘We usually have sex zero to four times a week on average,’ she says. ‘Sometimes I love it, sometimes it makes me upset.

‘I love making Lucy feel good and it’s so hot, but I’d really just like my sex life to be pain-free.’

So, without further ado, here’s how she got on this week.

Warning: The following is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.

Wednesday

‘Just one more day,’ Lucy texts me, and I immediately send back a kissing emoji.

We haven’t seen each other for three weeks, as she lives in Brighton, and I’ve felt every mile between us.

I miss her soft stomach and feeling her arms around me as I fall asleep. I miss her smell. I miss her at my thighs.

I wonder if my body will let me enjoy sex this time or whether we’ll have to start and stop like a tube train leaving the station and suddenly jerking back.

My vaginismus is almost entirely psychological. My brain sends the wrong messages to my vaginal muscles. I know there are dilators that can help, but they terrify me.

I know what the advice is: experiment with other kinds of touch, stop when you need, don’t push through the pain.

But this all annoys me. I don’t want to stop.

I fall asleep on my own, far away from Lucy.

Thursday

I’m between classes and the library for most of the day. I’m on my phone any spare chance I get, texting Lucy. I look at photos of us.

Then, finally, it’s time to meet her at the station. As her coach pulls in, I get nervous — I always do at this point.

Out of the bus emerges a head of brown hair, searching eyes and the prettiest face that has ever come out of the south. Lucy smiles when she spots me.

In bed we kiss and I feel all kinds of excited. I feel the skin on her stomach and chest and breathe in her smell. I finally feel at home. I hate long-distance, the trips to see each other break up my weeks and push me behind on studies. But I love Alex and home is with her.

Today was too long for either of us to do anything more. We pass out holding each other.

Friday

Lucy and I both work from home today. In the evening my flatmate leaves the house which opens a rare window of opportunity to have sex.

We’re both on our periods so I lay down a towel. I’m feeling a little shy and I can tell Lucy is too, as we always are after a while apart.

Soon though, we rediscover each other and I take in Lucy’s beautiful body and kiss her all over. I grind on her. She touches me. I finish unusually quickly. No pain yet.

We cuddle for a while and Lucy gets up to pee. I get a glass of water and we cuddle some more before our hands find each other again.

Soon the pain sets in. My vagina stabs and burns even with the lightest touch. I breathe, tell myself to relax, but it doesn’t help.

I alternate between pleasure and stabbing pain. I am never sure if I should continue when this happens.

Sometimes it gets better, sometimes it doesn’t. This time it doesn’t. We stop. Lucy looks sad and concerned and I feel guilty. This isn’t sexy. I make it up to her until she finishes.

Saturday

It’s our anniversary so I cook us a nice dinner while Lucy opens prosecco. My flatmate is out all night again.

After dinner, slightly tipsy, we kiss in the kitchen and Lucy’s hand slips under my shirt and into my pants. I feel pain immediately, sharp and stinging.

We take breaks. I touch Lucy. When Lucy returns to me I feel like a light switch being flipped between joy and pain. I try to push through for a while, hoping it will go away. It doesn’t. We stop and Lucy holds me.

Then, Lucy asks how I’m feeling and I start crying. I feel frustrated and angry at my body. I love Lucy and I love sleeping with her, so why can’t my p**** get the message?

I feel like I’ve ruined the evening and I worry that this will ruin our relationship.

Lucy holds me and wraps me up in a duvet. She strokes my face and says sweet, reassuring words.

Sunday

In the morning we talk about the previous night. Lucy suggests following the advice on exploring other kinds of touch.

She runs her fingers along my back, my butt, the back of my arms and makes me tingle. We touch and pinch and stroke each other and say how it feels.

Eventually I bring her hand to me and she touches me very gently because some parts still feel sore. Every now and then I feel a tiny pinch of pain so I tell her to stop or move to a different area, like a sex puzzle.

I touch myself. Lucy touches me. Slowly I seem to relax and the pain subsides until it goes away completely and I only feel pleasure. Lucy is touching me as she always has, gently massaging, circling and touching the opening of my vagina but going no further. My body is now receptive and warmth builds up in my legs. I finish.

I feel relieved. It’s nice to feel good again with Lucy like this. The last time we were together, I wasn’t able to get there at all.

In the evening we cuddle in the back of a cinema, watching a long, artsy film that neither of us really understands.

Monday

Lucy is leaving back to Brighton today. She packs while I read.

I feel like I want to apologise for how hard it can be sometimes. Before Lucy, I didn’t really have sex because it took until my 20s to come out, so this is really all I know, and sometimes I worry that the pain will never go away, that I am a faulty product that needs to be returned to the factory.

I know I am doing the right things but I still worry that sex with Lucy’s exes was easier, more fun, less therapised. I wonder if she misses that. We don’t have time to talk about this right now so I don’t bring it up.

We kiss in the doorway and Lucy leaves.

I sleep alone again.

Tuesday

I am back in classes all day, but I’m thrilled to see a message from Lucy, saying she misses me already.

In the evening we call and she tells me about her day. I love listening to her voice.

She makes me laugh and I’m reminded by how much I like talking to her, that there is more to our relationship than just sex, that we connect in so many other ways.

At night, I think of Lucy’s body and I am excited for when I get to touch her again.

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