When Penetration Feels Impossible or Painful: A Beginner’s Guide to Vaginismus

Is your body tensing up, clenching, or shutting down when penetration is on the table—whether it’s sex, tampons, a pap smear, or fingers?

You’re not broken. And you’re definitely not alone.

You might be experiencing something called vaginismus—a condition that affects more people than you’d think, and one that’s very real, very valid, and I’m going to break it down for you here.

So, what is vaginismus?

Vaginismus is when the muscles around the vaginal entrance tighten up—usually without you meaning to. That tightness can make any kind of penetration feel painful, uncomfortable, or impossible.

For some people, it feels like hitting a wall.
Others describe a sharp sting, burning, or pressure.
Sometimes your whole body freezes, or your chest tightens.
And sometimes the fear kicks in before anything even touches you.

This isn’t in your head, and it’s not something you can solve by “just relaxing.” It’s your nervous system doing what it knows—protecting you. Even when it’s not helpful in the moment, it makes sense.

As sexologist Chantelle Otten puts it:

“Pain is a signal, not a sentence.”

Your body is trying to tell you something and trying to approach this message without judgment or shame can be really helpful.

Why does vaginismus happen?

There’s no single cause, and often there’s no one moment it begins. But there are some common threads:

  • A painful or rushed first sexual experience

  • Medical trauma (like a pap smear, IUD, or surgery)

  • Sexual trauma or coercion

  • Ongoing anxiety, stress, or burnout

  • Cultural or religious messages that framed sex as shameful or dangerous

  • Years of ignoring discomfort to keep someone else happy

In most cases, it’s not just one thing. It’s a pattern that builds over time—and one your body has learned as a form of protection. That’s why I call it a protective response, not a dysfunction.

How common is it?

Around 1 in 10 people with vaginas will experience vaginismus at some point in their lives. That number might be even higher, because many people don’t talk about it or don’t have the words to describe what’s going on.

So if you’ve ever googled “why does sex feel like hitting a wall?” or “why can’t I insert a tampon?”—you’re not the only one.

Let’s start with this: You’re not broken

You’re not frigid. You’re not dramatic. You’re not overreacting.

You’re a person with a nervous system that’s trying to do its job—sometimes too well. And if penetration is off the table right now, that doesn’t make you less sexual or less worthy of a full and fantastic life ( Pleasure/ joy is your birthright in and outside of a sexual context).

What’s going on in your body?

Here’s a simple breakdown of a common cycle people with vaginismus can go through:

  1. You expect pain

  2. Your body tightens to protect you

  3. Penetration hurts or can’t happen

  4. You feel fear, panic, or frustration

  5. Your body stores that memory—and tightens again next time

This is called the pain–fear–tension cycle. It’s not a failure—it’s a pattern. And like any pattern, it can be changed.

What helps?

Let’s walk through some first steps that are actually useful.

1. Talk to your GP

Make an appointment and explain what’s happening. Use the word vaginismus ( and write down what you are experiencing in your body/ thoughts so you don’t forget or down play it in the moment).

Ask for:

  • A referral to a pelvic floor physiotherapist

  • A mental health care plan if you’d like support from a therapist

  • A GP who takes you seriously. If they don’t, find someone who does. You deserve proper care.

2. Focus on feeling safe in your body

Before you try to fix anything, your nervous system needs to feel safe.

This can be incredibly simple. In fact, the simpler, the better:

  • A slow shower where you actually take your time

  • Moisturising your body without rushing through it

  • Deep belly breathing—even for two minutes

  • Movement or touch that helps you feel grounded, not tense

If you’re not sure where to start, I’ve recorded a free 7-minute guided practice to help you reconnect with your body in a way that doesn’t feel overwhelming.
Download it here – I’ll send it to your email inbox (and don’t worry no internal touch required).

3. Rethink what intimacy looks like

Penetration is not the only kind of sex. It’s not the goalpost for being “normal” or “good at intimacy.”

Start by asking:

  • What kinds of touch feel okay right now—even if they’re not sexual?

  • What would it feel like to explore connection without pressure to go further?

  • What sensations, spaces, or moments help you feel curious, not tense?

There’s no rush. You get to go at the pace your body is ready for.

4. Try tools only if they feel supportive

Some people find dilators, lube, vibrators, mirror work, or meditations helpful.

But here’s the deal: none of them are required.

Things that might be helpful now or down the track:

  • Dilators (used slowly, with breathwork and self-touch)

  • Somatic meditations (like the one I made)

  • Mirror work, just to see your body with less fear

  • Pelvic physio support if you’re ready for hands-on help

Don’t overwhelm yourself with all the things. One step at a time.

5. Go slow, seriously

This isn’t about rushing to “get over it” or finally have “normal sex.”
It’s about understanding what your body is telling you—and learning how to respond with care.

That might look like:

  • Saying no to penetration for now—or forever

  • Creating small, everyday rituals that feel calming or grounding

  • Letting go of pressure to be sexual in any one “right” way

  • Giving yourself time, space, and support

Progress might not be linear, and that’s okay.

So what now?

Okay so You’ve read the article. Maybe something clicked. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe you're just over feeling stuck and want to do something about it.

Good. Start here.

Quick disclaimer

This article is not a substitute for personalised care. For tailored support, speak to a certified sexologist (like me), a pelvic floor physio, a trauma-informed therapist, or a GP who listens.

I’m so glad you’re here and please don’t be shy, let’s stay in touch through socials ( ask me if you have any additional questions)

Always a pleasure,
Jassy (She/Her)
Sexologist & Founder of Second Base
Instagram: @second__base_

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