Theo talks:
đ Sex IRL & Smut in Fanfiction: my experience đ
cw ahead: medical treatments, medical negligence, misdiagnosis, painful intercourse due to medical reasons
you didn't ask for it but you're getting it anyway âđŚ
Sex has always been a sore spot for me because, physically speaking, Iâve had to deal with searing, burning pain during intercourse for years.
Gynecologists couldnât tell me what it was. They called me overly anxious (which wasnât untrue, but also irrelevant for my case), severely stressed, and âafraid of sexâ. When I explained that I wanted to have itâmentallyâbut that my body couldnât handle it, they referred me to a psychologist to explore my supposed âfear of sex.â
But so many things didnât make sense. I wasnât afraid of gynecologists, I was actually very accommodating, cooperativeâI was the first one wanting to find the root of the problem. I wasnât scared of being touched. And ultimately⌠I just wasnât afraid of sex. In fact, I liked the idea of sex. I was envious of people who could have it without feeling like their lower half was catching fireâbecause thatâs how it felt to me.
That was my diagnosis: fear of sex.
Every time the doctors asked what I felt during intercourse, I said, âIt burns, like someoneâs inserting a scorching metal rod inside me. It scratches like continuously rubbing velcro on skin". I had physical signs tooâinternal abrasions, cuts, bleeding. My tests all came back negative, and so they never investigated further. They pegged it all to my âsex phobia".
From then on, my sex drive plummeted to the pits of hell. I wasnât attracted to it anymoreâI only associated it with pain. And with pain, there was no orgasm, no fulfillment, no intimacy. It was torture. That was it.
I was lost, fighting alone, talking to wall after wall because no one was listeningâuntil I stopped searching for answers and reluctantly decided to make peace with my condition.
And then, just when I was about to accept that sex would never feel good to me, I had a random gynecological visit with a random doctor in my hometown. He didnât like what Iâd been told. He didnât like the shallow diagnosis. So heâand his trusted obstetrician (I adored her and still do)âdecided to dig deeper.
And the first thing they told me was:
âNever believe that sex should be painful. Never think, 'Because I used it [my vagina], itâs okay if thereâs pain'. Sex should not be painful. There can be discomfort, but never pain.â
It was never fear, it was physical pain. It was never anxiety, it was a physical impediment. I was never scared, I was never anxious or stressedâI was in pain.
After two years of increasingly distressing and invasive physiotherapy, antidepressants, neuropathy treatments, myorelaxants, supplements, and so fucking onâI found out what sex should feel like.
And I liked it. Fucking hell, I loved it.
I loved having it. I loved talking about it. I loved discussing it with friends. I loved studying itâbecause look at me now, working to help people with their reproductive health.
And I found it even more liberating to fantasize about it, about all the stuff I could try now that it didnât hurt anymore. How to turn those feelings around and make them good. I was excited. I was ecstatic.
But the societal shame of being AFAB with a high sex drive knocked early. It was terrifyingly easy to go from âIâm ashamed of not liking sexâ to âIâm ashamed of liking sex too muchâ.
The psychological journey toward making peace with this different kind of shame has been long, but I think Iâm almost there. Thereâs still work to do, and Iâm not ready to yell it from the rooftops just yetâbut I know Iâm close, because things are changing. I see it. I feel it.
To write smut, for meâand forgive the dramaticsâis healing. I love writing it. I love nitpicking every emotion people go through while theyâre at it. I love exploring the mental gymnastics, the physical exchanges, the psychology behind it.
Itâs me discovering things I never felt, things I might feel someday.
And itâs me telling the reader what Iâve finallyâfinallyâmanaged to experience.
Iâm still wary of painâboth reading and writing about it. But maybe thatâs the turning point, no? My mind still reels from it, my body remembers it. But maybe when I can face it⌠thatâs when Iâll know Iâve made peace with it.
Not there yet. But seeing how far Iâve come makes me hopeful.
Iâm sorry if you stumbled upon my blog expecting fluff and ended up in a smut-hole.
Iâm sorry if youâre not comfortable here, but I am, and ultimately thatâs what matters to me.
Iâm sure there are wonderful writers out there whoâll wrap their readers in fluffy blankets and warm 'em up with a hot chocolate of romance. And if you can't find those writers, become one. Lord knows starting to write what I wanted to read has laid the foundation of my journey.
However, Iâm here to tell feelings through sex, because Iâm thrilled to finally understand them.
Heartbreak and how sensual touches change into languid brushes or desperate hands because of it. Jealousy and its covetousness, how caresses become clutches and kisses become bites. Hate and how it can tangle with attraction, that confusing cocktail of disdain and perfect pleasure.
Love, and how it can be fun and kind and good and reverent, clumsy and personal at times, but also rough and biting during others, when both parties agree. That, too, is healing.
And so, so much more. I canât wait to explore it all. Read it all. Write it all, and live through it all, too!
This blog is my safe spaceâand I hope itâs someone elseâs too.
I hope my sex anthologies, my sexy one shots, my weird-kinks-Iâm-still-not-sure-about and my very-much-established-kinks-Iâm-very-sure-about, and my sappy love stories can be our own version of a fluffy blanket and hot chocolate.
Being horny is not a crime. Wanting to have sex doesnât make you an uncontrollable monster. Writing characters who experience desire (especially if that desire mirrors your own) does not turn them into wild, animalistic caricatures. It doesnât make them shameful, and it doesnât make you shameful either.Â
And please remember: dyspareunia (painful intercourse) is not normal. Pain during sex can be a consensual choice (to each their own preference!), but it should never be forced, unexplained, or accepted as your baseline. It should never be your "normal" or something you're told to "live with"!
If you think you're experiencing it, please find the courage to contact your gynecologist about it.
Your body is entitled to feel goodâyou are entitled to feel good.
And you deserve to feel safe, cared for, and understood.














