Here is a personal account of vaginismus, this time coming from a single woman. We are sharing her words because for this woman (and so many others), her experience is the very essence of circumstantial infertility. Her diagnosis was one of the things that held her back from dating, thus affecting her ability to have a child.

As always, please be kind and sensitive. She is a woman in deep pain, and we want to make her feel validated and supported.

“First off, let me say thank you for everything you do and specifically for this topic. I'm infertile by circumstance and no longer religious, but I still feel so much value in what you share and relate to most of your content. I hope you know that you are helping so many people. This may be a little long, but I'll try to only leave in the most important parts...

I started working in childcare when I was just 14 and realized I couldn't wait to become a mother myself. I didn't have dreams of going to college or having a great career I just wanted to be a mom and preferably a stay-at-home mom and I really did believe that because that's what I wanted that's how my life would turn out...

After becoming an adult I realized intercourse was extremely painful/impossible for me (I later found out I had vaginismus). I’m no longer observant and dating in the secular world when you can’t have sex is pretty much impossible (or it was for me at least) and i spent my early to mid twenties being rejected by man after man. By my late twenties I assumed I’d never meet anyone and with vaginismus i felt I didn’t even have other options as I couldn’t even get vaginal exams done and still working in childcare I couldn’t exactly afford to do it on my own either. At that point I really stopped dating all together because I really felt I would never meet anyone anyway.

Now in my mid thirties, my vaginismus is mostly cured, and I've dated a few men, but it still hasn't worked out for one reason or another: the more that happens, the less energy I have to keep trying.

What's hard about not having children because of your relationship status is that people don't even know or think you might be grieving everyday. Friends and family are oblivious and unintentionally say so many hurtful things. When I have tried opening up about I often get "so just adopt" or something along those lines. That drives me nuts because it simplifies my situation and makes me feel like they think I'm dumb like I couldn't have thought of that on my own. If I haven't adopted or done it on my own some other way, there is a reason for that, but it's often looked at like you don't want it bad enough if you haven't done everything possible. They failed to realize that I have done everything within my power.

Overcoming vaginismus and paying for those Specialists out of pocket was a huge hurdle, but people don't see that. I still work in childcare and have to fight tears whenever I talk to a new parent or when I see parents talking while their children run around together. Not to mention how often I've been made to feel like I'm not as good at my job as other people just because I'm not a parent myself.

Also, it's challenging that I don't even get to try to get pregnant, and as I get older and I know I only have so many fertile years left. It's also tough knowing I have less and less time and that as you get older, it gets harder to meet someone. I am in a rush, and when men realize that or even assume it, most lose interest. Plus, since the men in dating are older, they often already have kids and don't want more. I also don't want to date someone that already has a kid of his own because I think it would just be too painful. It's terrifying knowing that I may never meet anyone, or if I do, they may be too late to even try by then.

It feels incredibly invisible like my grief isn't validated by society. When a married couple doesn't have children, at least some people realize there may be a problem, and they might be sensitive, but nobody even thinks it might be on my mind.

I'm certainly not proud to admit this (in fact, I'm pretty ashamed), but in my darkest and saddest moments, I've found myself even wishing that I'd at least have a failed pregnancy because maybe then people would accept that I'm sorry and that I'm grieving.

Being single doesn't mean you want a child any less than those who have been lucky enough to find a partner. I know my grief is just as real and painful, but I really wish other people would start to recognize that as well, and if they do recognize that, I hope they stop making insensitive comments. I would love to tell people what I'm going through, but I'm also embarrassed and ashamed. There is a stigma for " older single,: and people really pity you or look down on you if you are out enjoying your life and having fun, so I pretend that life is great even though I am hurting every moment of every day and grieving the children and the life that I wanted and don't have.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I want people to say. It's hard because you don't want pity but acknowledgment... Depends on the person/situation, I suppose.

More than anything, I guess just some sensitivity. People need to remember that whether someone is single, married, or has kids, you never know what's happening. Even if it's your best friend, they might be keeping some things from you.

So it's always best to be careful.

And this is different for everyone, but I want more people to take it as an opportunity to help me find someone! My best friend is single too, but she's more in the religious world and kind of sick of people constantly trying to set her up, but I guess the best thing to do is ask... That reminds me of a story. During lockdown, I did a zoom with about 10 girls I grew up with; of course, the entire conversation revolved around kids. After one of the girls who live in Israel and I haven't even seen in maybe 5 years message me and asked if it bothered me and apologized. A simple gesture goes a long way; feeling seen can be huge!”