Non-Relaxing/Hypertonic Pelvic Floor Resources?
Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2022 11:31 am
Hello friends! It's been a while since I've been here. A lot has changed for the better in my life, but I'm back here for advice wondering whether anyone has any accessible/online/free resources for working with a non-relaxing/hypertonic/etc pelvic floor.
As is apparently the usual for me, this post is probably going to be super, *super* long as I try to get things straight in my head and written out. Thank you very much for your patience and help as always, and for giving me a place to do so!
Since I last posted here, I have stayed with the same lovely boyfriend, who has really gotten more educated, considerate, and willing to put in the effort I need. I was feeling really bad about that relationship this spring, but since then he's really stepped up, realized he wasn't putting in nearly enough effort, and actually changed that. We've been living together for a couple of months and things are really great. I am very, *very* happy that I got through to him and things are amazing now.
I had a long thread a couple years ago here about not expecting sexual desire or pleasure or arousal or orgasm. Since then, I've come around to accepting some things about myself I hadn't really felt I deserved to claim before (seeing a mental health professional for my lifelong major depression and OCD; going on bupropion which has been more of a game-changer than I can ever express when it comes to actually wanting to be alive; feeling okay with identifying as asexual; acknowledging that a *lot* of things about my upbringing and experiences should probably be described as traumatic).
I feel so much better about and less frustrated with myself on the sex and sexuality front. I am able to experience some pleasure with masturbation sometimes, and can get to orgasm by hand or with a vibrator (though I haven't yet by a partner's manipulation, but I'm not worried about it; it obviously takes my body a LONG time to learn these things and get comfortable with them, as learning to do it alone took months and months of practice, and it's not something that feels essential to my sex life).
I'm also becoming more and more convinced of my original conviction that my pelvic floor is a super-tight, never-relaxed mess. I grew up in an environment where I was very much constantly guarding myself against sudden, seemingly random physical and verbal outbursts of rage from my parents, and looking at that it makes sense that I've got tons of issues in by body all related to being hyper-vigilant and tense. My TMJ is really damaged, I have a screwed up shoulder, the list goes on. And then there's my pelvic floor.
I've also come to realize that, lack of pleasure aside, the pain I feel in my pelvic region is not normal the way I have always assumed.
(I actually suspect this is part of what informed my lifelong childhood terror of sex: when I heard people talking about it they always seemed to say it would hurt, and when they mentioned women screaming I thought they must be screaming in pain, and so on. It's a bit of a chicken and egg situation trying to parse expected and experienced pain, but I always thought of sex as something horrible that will inevitably happen *to* me to serve a man, that I don't really have a choice in the matter, and that it will be incredibly painful and violating.)
It seems silly, but I've only recently realized that intense pain on light contact with the vaginal vestibule, along with bright red visible inflammation, is not a normal thing for everyone, and is in fact a type of vulvodynia often called provoked vestibulodynia.
Also, this realization happened a bit earlier, but learning it isn't necessarily normal to have extreme difficulty getting things as small as tampons into the vagina, and PIV being entirely impossible, an extricating tears-in-eyes endeavor of something stuck in your incredibly painful-to-touch vestibule and hitting a wall preventing it from going any farther no matter how hard you pushed.
And this week I realized that I likely have a clitoral adhesion on one side (not a new one or a tendency towards forming them regularly; this has been here as long as I can remember) which is the cause of clitoral pain when I touch it at "wrong" angles, which I also just kinda thought was normal. Growing up I always felt a burning between my legs when riding a bike or sitting in tight pants and so on, and I recently made the connection from poking at that adhesion that that is, once again, not normal, and is the same sort of pins-and-needles or huh-that-is-weird burning pain as touching the clitoris there (rather than the raw, red, stinging pain of the vestibule, which is much worse).
I had actually tried to get a gynecologist to take a look at that adhesion when I first went to see one in summer of 2021 (and also generally take a look at my head-of-a-pin sized, absolutely miniscule clitoris) but she didn't point anything out or take a thorough look and instead it felt like she kind of made fun of me as if I thought I didn't have one. She also made a bunch of comments about how patient my poor boyfriend must be and her only comments about not experiencing any pleasure were to read an outdated book from the 70s and buy a vibrator. I've come to realize the average OBGYN or urologist has zero training on nuanced matters of sexuality or pleasure, and, after reading a recent NYT article, almost no experience performing a qualified exam of the clitoris, which is absolutely infuriating to me.
Self diagnosis can be tricky, dangerous, and unhelpful, but in this case I feel like it's just labeling exactly what's on the tin, since terms like vaginismus, vulvodynia, and adhesions aren't disease diagnoses in themselves, but fancy medical words for phenomena I can clearly observe are happening (muscles contracting too tightly to allow penetration, pain in the vulva, and a fold of skin I can clearly see sticking to my clitoris, respectively).
Putting aside the adhesion pain, I've read that vaginismus and in some cases vestibulodynia can be caused or worsened by a tight pelvic floor. Additionally, my lifelong experience of lots of difficulty experiencing any genital pleasure or orgasm, and the fact that my orgasms are still a strange, muted non-pleasurable shudder that usually feels like nothing or is even unpleasant, makes me think that, as an article on Scarleteen mentioned, my pelvic floor might be so tight all the time it can't create good strong contractions.
Also, this ebbs and flows, but over the last few years I've developed problems urinating. Not incontinence -- if anything I'm hyper-continent, and have a really hard time peeing sometimes even when I'm uncomfortably full of water and know I need to go. I always have to sit down for a minute and try really hard to relax and entice some involuntary muscle to "open" before anything starts coming out. It often feels like there's something uncomfortable stopping me from getting anything out, which seems to appear and disappear entirely involuntarily, leaving me peeing in a repeated stop-start fashion or sometimes in more tapered waves where the flow gets stronger, then very weak, then stronger, then weaker again.
I've noticed this goes away for a few days after I orgasm, so my theory is sending those contractions through my pelvic floor is a way to turn it off and on again, so to speak, and temporarily make my pelvic region hold less tension until it "remembers" the habit again.
Despite my lackluster OBGYN experiences and dread of an awkward, invalidating, and incredibly painful experience, I made an appointment a few weeks ago. I figured it would be nice to get the medical validation of a professional affirming what I see and providing and any potential direction on those issues, although I'm pessimistic about actually receiving those. But the first open appointment I could find with an OBGYN anywhere near me is in *April*. Over six months away from when I scheduled it.
In the meantime, I thought, maybe it's time I finally try pelvic floor PT. I have a PT I really like and have built trust with as she works on my shoulder and jaw, and she mentioned recently that she has started doing pelvic floor work and biofeedback. So I set a tentative appointment with her, still scared of the idea of pelvic floor PT but comfortable with her and determined to keep improving myself and find ways away from chronic pain and discomfort.
But today I got a call saying that my PT's pelvic floor biofeedback thing "isn't working very well" and they're taking some steps back to re-evaluate the program before opening back up to doing pelvic therapy. Which is great and honest and respectable of them. And leaves me out of an appointment.
They referred me to what seems to be the only other pelvic PT place around here, but it's... it's one of those private, no-insurance practices run by a white woman with a Sanskrit word in its name, a hot pink "designed with Wix" website, and a general vibe I'm skeptical of. Yes, she appears certified in some way or another and has positive reviews, but doesn't take insurance and the whole thing has a very ~holistic~ aura that makes me apprehensive.
Of course, she is also mostly booked, but has a few openings in November. I feel like maybe I should try it just to see, but I am a broke young adult who works like five jobs and is not keen on parting with $120 for a stranger to put me through the paces of an evaluation (which, to be fair, is 90 minutes, so at least it should be incredibly thorough and leave time for her to listen).
I'm also just apprehensive about pelvic PT for probably obvious reasons: expecting pain, the exhaustion of talking a stranger through your experiences and praying they listen and pay attention to you and that you don't forget anything, having someone poke around your vulva for a while and ultimately providing what might be nothing useful.
I also really hate how male-centered a lot of the discourse in the pelvic floor PT space is, especially regarding problems like vaginismus. Too much of the conversation seems to echo my OBGYN's oh-your-poor-boyfriend attitude, appalled that a man should be deprived of what they see as a man's right and a woman's obligation to perform PIV, and certain that your relationship must be falling apart and he must be miserable.
Of course, it's something I feel self-conscious and worried about myself, but my acceptance of it has gotten better with time. I know that PIV is genuinely not important to me or to my boyfriend, that this is not a strain that's going to break our relationship, that it isn't actually required of me and he doesn't want anything that will cause me pain. Our concept of what sex is has only gotten more nuanced, educated, and comfortable as time goes on. (Last night I heated up a bowl of frozen vegetables and seasoned them for him and he just looked at me and completely seriously said, "This is sex." And he was right! And he said the same a few nights ago when he just gently ran his fingers over my back and shoulders and I was somehow feeling way, WAY more present in my body and able to feel sensation than usual and cried because it felt so good. It's slow progress but we're learning.)
Still, it's tough to unlearn that societal shame and feeling of being not enough, defective, not offering a "feature" the average cis female partner is assumed to come with. And so I am really hesitant to plunge myself into any spaces or conversations that take the "shove these dilators in your vagina and winch yourself open for a man already" approach.
I just want to eliminate a source of chronic pain and discomfort in my body. I want to learn to feel less naturally apprehensive and terrified when it comes to touch down there. I want to feel safer and more comfortable and potentially experience more than the scraping few scraps of genital pleasure I've learned to be okay with. I want to be able to use tampons if I ever need to without pain or extreme discomfort (and maybe even be able to use the menstrual cup I got for free years ago but still haven't gotten near successfully putting in). I want to be less petrified of going in for a regular OBGYN exam.
Thank you so much for giving me a space to write this all out. It's been really helpful. I'm wondering whether anyone has resources for working on my pelvic floor for free at home that they can personally vouch for? I've been following some gentle stretches and exercise videos from Dr. Bri at Vibrant Pelvic Health, and observing things in the way I carry my body daily. I definitely used to suck in my stomach all the time, and don't think I do anymore, but I recently realized I'm a chronic butt and leg clencher, and seemingly don't know how to stand or move without habitually squeezing my glutes.
I've also read Betty Dodson's work on people who elicit genital pleasure via squeezing the pelvic floor versus rocking/humping type motions, and that the former often feels restrictive and potentially limits pleasure potential. Indeed, I'm guilty of being a squeezer, and squeezing hard through the pelvic floor, glutes, and legs. Sometimes so hard I can feel the burning lactic acid buildup eclipsing any pleasure, and doubtless due to a combination of habit, muscle tone, tensing trauma response, and a self-inflicted pressure to create any kind of genital pleasure and/or orgasm. It's like I'm desperately scraping at myself instead of acting in a sense of safety and lazy abundance, furiously trying to squeeze out a drop of good feeling, to "work on" getting better at this, to get the task done successfully.
While squeezing is fine if someone enjoys and is satisfied with it, I think it's an issue for me, so I'm trying to quit cold turkey and explore how it feels to receive touch from myself or my partner without habitually tensing everything up. It's really, really hard!! And, just like learning to masturbate first with a vibrator and then again without each took me months, I'm sure it will take me months and months of work to sort out how to orgasm without resorting to squeezing. Right now, I have no idea how it could be possible, but I've accomplished all sorts of things in my body the last few years that I never thought were remotely possible for me.
Thank you again for the place to write all this out. I'm curious whether anyone has any resources or personal tips or tricks or stories they're willing to share related to a non-relaxing pelvic floor and the other issues I've touched on here. Book recs, YouTube channels, or just notes about what worked for you are all really helpful and great. I realize the go-to answer to most of this should probably be "Go see a doctor," but I have six months between now and then and I'll gladly try any gentle at-home ideas in the meanwhile.
I'm going back and forth on whether I want to go to this private practice for an evaluation, and in any case I have another six months until I can see an actual doctor, so for now I'll gladly take any community suggestions for things to try and any words you may have for me. This stuff can get pretty frustrating and it would feel good to feel more understood and less alone, even if that just means someone here hears what I'm saying. And, of course, if anything I'm saying here sounds wrong or there's something in my thinking about this you want to challenge, I really appreciate that too! Thank you, Scarleteen <3
As is apparently the usual for me, this post is probably going to be super, *super* long as I try to get things straight in my head and written out. Thank you very much for your patience and help as always, and for giving me a place to do so!
Since I last posted here, I have stayed with the same lovely boyfriend, who has really gotten more educated, considerate, and willing to put in the effort I need. I was feeling really bad about that relationship this spring, but since then he's really stepped up, realized he wasn't putting in nearly enough effort, and actually changed that. We've been living together for a couple of months and things are really great. I am very, *very* happy that I got through to him and things are amazing now.
I had a long thread a couple years ago here about not expecting sexual desire or pleasure or arousal or orgasm. Since then, I've come around to accepting some things about myself I hadn't really felt I deserved to claim before (seeing a mental health professional for my lifelong major depression and OCD; going on bupropion which has been more of a game-changer than I can ever express when it comes to actually wanting to be alive; feeling okay with identifying as asexual; acknowledging that a *lot* of things about my upbringing and experiences should probably be described as traumatic).
I feel so much better about and less frustrated with myself on the sex and sexuality front. I am able to experience some pleasure with masturbation sometimes, and can get to orgasm by hand or with a vibrator (though I haven't yet by a partner's manipulation, but I'm not worried about it; it obviously takes my body a LONG time to learn these things and get comfortable with them, as learning to do it alone took months and months of practice, and it's not something that feels essential to my sex life).
I'm also becoming more and more convinced of my original conviction that my pelvic floor is a super-tight, never-relaxed mess. I grew up in an environment where I was very much constantly guarding myself against sudden, seemingly random physical and verbal outbursts of rage from my parents, and looking at that it makes sense that I've got tons of issues in by body all related to being hyper-vigilant and tense. My TMJ is really damaged, I have a screwed up shoulder, the list goes on. And then there's my pelvic floor.
I've also come to realize that, lack of pleasure aside, the pain I feel in my pelvic region is not normal the way I have always assumed.
(I actually suspect this is part of what informed my lifelong childhood terror of sex: when I heard people talking about it they always seemed to say it would hurt, and when they mentioned women screaming I thought they must be screaming in pain, and so on. It's a bit of a chicken and egg situation trying to parse expected and experienced pain, but I always thought of sex as something horrible that will inevitably happen *to* me to serve a man, that I don't really have a choice in the matter, and that it will be incredibly painful and violating.)
It seems silly, but I've only recently realized that intense pain on light contact with the vaginal vestibule, along with bright red visible inflammation, is not a normal thing for everyone, and is in fact a type of vulvodynia often called provoked vestibulodynia.
Also, this realization happened a bit earlier, but learning it isn't necessarily normal to have extreme difficulty getting things as small as tampons into the vagina, and PIV being entirely impossible, an extricating tears-in-eyes endeavor of something stuck in your incredibly painful-to-touch vestibule and hitting a wall preventing it from going any farther no matter how hard you pushed.
And this week I realized that I likely have a clitoral adhesion on one side (not a new one or a tendency towards forming them regularly; this has been here as long as I can remember) which is the cause of clitoral pain when I touch it at "wrong" angles, which I also just kinda thought was normal. Growing up I always felt a burning between my legs when riding a bike or sitting in tight pants and so on, and I recently made the connection from poking at that adhesion that that is, once again, not normal, and is the same sort of pins-and-needles or huh-that-is-weird burning pain as touching the clitoris there (rather than the raw, red, stinging pain of the vestibule, which is much worse).
I had actually tried to get a gynecologist to take a look at that adhesion when I first went to see one in summer of 2021 (and also generally take a look at my head-of-a-pin sized, absolutely miniscule clitoris) but she didn't point anything out or take a thorough look and instead it felt like she kind of made fun of me as if I thought I didn't have one. She also made a bunch of comments about how patient my poor boyfriend must be and her only comments about not experiencing any pleasure were to read an outdated book from the 70s and buy a vibrator. I've come to realize the average OBGYN or urologist has zero training on nuanced matters of sexuality or pleasure, and, after reading a recent NYT article, almost no experience performing a qualified exam of the clitoris, which is absolutely infuriating to me.
Self diagnosis can be tricky, dangerous, and unhelpful, but in this case I feel like it's just labeling exactly what's on the tin, since terms like vaginismus, vulvodynia, and adhesions aren't disease diagnoses in themselves, but fancy medical words for phenomena I can clearly observe are happening (muscles contracting too tightly to allow penetration, pain in the vulva, and a fold of skin I can clearly see sticking to my clitoris, respectively).
Putting aside the adhesion pain, I've read that vaginismus and in some cases vestibulodynia can be caused or worsened by a tight pelvic floor. Additionally, my lifelong experience of lots of difficulty experiencing any genital pleasure or orgasm, and the fact that my orgasms are still a strange, muted non-pleasurable shudder that usually feels like nothing or is even unpleasant, makes me think that, as an article on Scarleteen mentioned, my pelvic floor might be so tight all the time it can't create good strong contractions.
Also, this ebbs and flows, but over the last few years I've developed problems urinating. Not incontinence -- if anything I'm hyper-continent, and have a really hard time peeing sometimes even when I'm uncomfortably full of water and know I need to go. I always have to sit down for a minute and try really hard to relax and entice some involuntary muscle to "open" before anything starts coming out. It often feels like there's something uncomfortable stopping me from getting anything out, which seems to appear and disappear entirely involuntarily, leaving me peeing in a repeated stop-start fashion or sometimes in more tapered waves where the flow gets stronger, then very weak, then stronger, then weaker again.
I've noticed this goes away for a few days after I orgasm, so my theory is sending those contractions through my pelvic floor is a way to turn it off and on again, so to speak, and temporarily make my pelvic region hold less tension until it "remembers" the habit again.
Despite my lackluster OBGYN experiences and dread of an awkward, invalidating, and incredibly painful experience, I made an appointment a few weeks ago. I figured it would be nice to get the medical validation of a professional affirming what I see and providing and any potential direction on those issues, although I'm pessimistic about actually receiving those. But the first open appointment I could find with an OBGYN anywhere near me is in *April*. Over six months away from when I scheduled it.
In the meantime, I thought, maybe it's time I finally try pelvic floor PT. I have a PT I really like and have built trust with as she works on my shoulder and jaw, and she mentioned recently that she has started doing pelvic floor work and biofeedback. So I set a tentative appointment with her, still scared of the idea of pelvic floor PT but comfortable with her and determined to keep improving myself and find ways away from chronic pain and discomfort.
But today I got a call saying that my PT's pelvic floor biofeedback thing "isn't working very well" and they're taking some steps back to re-evaluate the program before opening back up to doing pelvic therapy. Which is great and honest and respectable of them. And leaves me out of an appointment.
They referred me to what seems to be the only other pelvic PT place around here, but it's... it's one of those private, no-insurance practices run by a white woman with a Sanskrit word in its name, a hot pink "designed with Wix" website, and a general vibe I'm skeptical of. Yes, she appears certified in some way or another and has positive reviews, but doesn't take insurance and the whole thing has a very ~holistic~ aura that makes me apprehensive.
Of course, she is also mostly booked, but has a few openings in November. I feel like maybe I should try it just to see, but I am a broke young adult who works like five jobs and is not keen on parting with $120 for a stranger to put me through the paces of an evaluation (which, to be fair, is 90 minutes, so at least it should be incredibly thorough and leave time for her to listen).
I'm also just apprehensive about pelvic PT for probably obvious reasons: expecting pain, the exhaustion of talking a stranger through your experiences and praying they listen and pay attention to you and that you don't forget anything, having someone poke around your vulva for a while and ultimately providing what might be nothing useful.
I also really hate how male-centered a lot of the discourse in the pelvic floor PT space is, especially regarding problems like vaginismus. Too much of the conversation seems to echo my OBGYN's oh-your-poor-boyfriend attitude, appalled that a man should be deprived of what they see as a man's right and a woman's obligation to perform PIV, and certain that your relationship must be falling apart and he must be miserable.
Of course, it's something I feel self-conscious and worried about myself, but my acceptance of it has gotten better with time. I know that PIV is genuinely not important to me or to my boyfriend, that this is not a strain that's going to break our relationship, that it isn't actually required of me and he doesn't want anything that will cause me pain. Our concept of what sex is has only gotten more nuanced, educated, and comfortable as time goes on. (Last night I heated up a bowl of frozen vegetables and seasoned them for him and he just looked at me and completely seriously said, "This is sex." And he was right! And he said the same a few nights ago when he just gently ran his fingers over my back and shoulders and I was somehow feeling way, WAY more present in my body and able to feel sensation than usual and cried because it felt so good. It's slow progress but we're learning.)
Still, it's tough to unlearn that societal shame and feeling of being not enough, defective, not offering a "feature" the average cis female partner is assumed to come with. And so I am really hesitant to plunge myself into any spaces or conversations that take the "shove these dilators in your vagina and winch yourself open for a man already" approach.
I just want to eliminate a source of chronic pain and discomfort in my body. I want to learn to feel less naturally apprehensive and terrified when it comes to touch down there. I want to feel safer and more comfortable and potentially experience more than the scraping few scraps of genital pleasure I've learned to be okay with. I want to be able to use tampons if I ever need to without pain or extreme discomfort (and maybe even be able to use the menstrual cup I got for free years ago but still haven't gotten near successfully putting in). I want to be less petrified of going in for a regular OBGYN exam.
Thank you so much for giving me a space to write this all out. It's been really helpful. I'm wondering whether anyone has resources for working on my pelvic floor for free at home that they can personally vouch for? I've been following some gentle stretches and exercise videos from Dr. Bri at Vibrant Pelvic Health, and observing things in the way I carry my body daily. I definitely used to suck in my stomach all the time, and don't think I do anymore, but I recently realized I'm a chronic butt and leg clencher, and seemingly don't know how to stand or move without habitually squeezing my glutes.
I've also read Betty Dodson's work on people who elicit genital pleasure via squeezing the pelvic floor versus rocking/humping type motions, and that the former often feels restrictive and potentially limits pleasure potential. Indeed, I'm guilty of being a squeezer, and squeezing hard through the pelvic floor, glutes, and legs. Sometimes so hard I can feel the burning lactic acid buildup eclipsing any pleasure, and doubtless due to a combination of habit, muscle tone, tensing trauma response, and a self-inflicted pressure to create any kind of genital pleasure and/or orgasm. It's like I'm desperately scraping at myself instead of acting in a sense of safety and lazy abundance, furiously trying to squeeze out a drop of good feeling, to "work on" getting better at this, to get the task done successfully.
While squeezing is fine if someone enjoys and is satisfied with it, I think it's an issue for me, so I'm trying to quit cold turkey and explore how it feels to receive touch from myself or my partner without habitually tensing everything up. It's really, really hard!! And, just like learning to masturbate first with a vibrator and then again without each took me months, I'm sure it will take me months and months of work to sort out how to orgasm without resorting to squeezing. Right now, I have no idea how it could be possible, but I've accomplished all sorts of things in my body the last few years that I never thought were remotely possible for me.
Thank you again for the place to write all this out. I'm curious whether anyone has any resources or personal tips or tricks or stories they're willing to share related to a non-relaxing pelvic floor and the other issues I've touched on here. Book recs, YouTube channels, or just notes about what worked for you are all really helpful and great. I realize the go-to answer to most of this should probably be "Go see a doctor," but I have six months between now and then and I'll gladly try any gentle at-home ideas in the meanwhile.
I'm going back and forth on whether I want to go to this private practice for an evaluation, and in any case I have another six months until I can see an actual doctor, so for now I'll gladly take any community suggestions for things to try and any words you may have for me. This stuff can get pretty frustrating and it would feel good to feel more understood and less alone, even if that just means someone here hears what I'm saying. And, of course, if anything I'm saying here sounds wrong or there's something in my thinking about this you want to challenge, I really appreciate that too! Thank you, Scarleteen <3