I've Never Had An Orgasm During Sex

Let me paint a scene for you: It's the summer of 2020. Jack's balls are blue. Just like my Hyundai, in which we are both sitting.

Before things get even hotter and heavier, I decide that it's time for that talk. At the time of this particular excursion, I was on a feminist rampage. Why should I have to fake my orgasms if good ol' Jack here can't even fake interest in anything but what color panties I'm wearing? I wasn't here for it.

I look down, unable to meet his eyes, and gesture like a helpless crazy person to my pubic area.

"Jack, I want to tell you something. I've never orgasmed from sex before."

If you're no stranger to my issue or even simply dating in the modern era, you can probably guess what comes next: a variation of "then you've never fucked me before" and some internal projectile vomiting on my part. Because, of course, Jack thinks his penis can fix what's wrong with me. He probably thinks that thing can cure cancer.

Puke-inducing egotism and feminist-leaning rage aside, I can't lie and say that my orgasm issues didn't bother me. My problem certainly wasn't through a lack of trying, or even from the absence of "good" sex. I had had multiple long-term partners who understood my body, and even they couldn't get me off. Quite frankly, I couldn't even come close.

That kind of stuff can really screw with your self-esteem. I would get so nervous before sexual interactions, making it even harder to reach my peak than it already was. It got to the point that I didn't want to have sex with anyone who wasn't aware of my issues, leading to years of repeating the same men who had already been warned of my inabilities instead of branching out. I didn't want to be seen as broken or, God forbid, as a challenge. My vagina didn't work, so I didn't feel like I particularly worked either.

So, what's the deal with that?

After several years of doubting my little friend down there, I was recently able to put a name to the face of my issue: anorgasmia.

Finally, a name and an answer. There are even three different types of the condition. There's primary or lifelong anorgasmia, meaning you've never had an orgasm. There is acquired or secondary anorgasmia, which means that you used to be able to have orgasms but some sort of emotional, sexual or physical issue is preventing you from having them now. And lastly, there is situational anorgasmia, where you are only able to have an orgasm during certain types of sexual situations, such as being able to orgasm from cunnilingus but not from penetrative sex. Which applies to, you know, a huge chunk of women.

Critically, a main symptom of anorgasmia is the fact that you find it shameful and distressing, and to be an interference with your personal relationships and daily life. If you're cool with what's going on down there, this shouldn't be ringing any alarm bells.

My vagina didn't work, so I didn't feel like I particularly worked either.

Causes of anorgasmia can be broken down into three kinds of factors: personal, psychological and physical.

Personal factors basically means that if you and your partner aren't happy, your vagina might not be in the best mood, either. Things like past cheating, recent arguments and communication issues can all play a surprisingly big factor in your ability to orgasm. Plus, if you and your partner aren't communicating what you need from each other sexually—such as "I like it when you do this" or "I'd prefer you didn't do that"—then you just might not be reaching the level of sexual stimulation required for you to get the big O.

In a similar vein, psychological factors also play a big part in your ability to climax. Depression and anxiety, among other mental health concerns, as well as body dysmorphia and past sexual abuse, can all lead to a lack of orgasms.

Even physical issues can cause anorgasmia, the potentially largest risk being what kind of medications you're on. People who take SSRIs, like me, are known to have issues with orgasming. However, other physical factors can play a role as well, such as past gynecological surgeries, certain diseases and even simply aging.

How to talk to your partner about anorgasmia

There are many different approaches to talking about orgasms, not all of them as balls to the wall as I was. According to Ness Cooper, a clinical sexologist who works as a sex and relationship coach at The Sex Consultant, people don't have to always disclose their orgasm history.

“Something like this type of discussion will depend on the relationship they have with their current sexual partner, Cooper said. “I'm not saying we shouldn't talk about past orgasm histories, but more so consider who you're sharing this with and whether or not you feel comfortable discussing it with that particular person."

I chose to talk to my partners about my orgasm history because I didn't want to fake it anymore. I was tired of the porn star moaning and pretending that I was so "soaked" when it was like the Sahara down there. That approach might not be for everyone, and it's important to remember that you only have to share what you're willing to and comfortable with. It varies from person to person, relationship to relationship.

Partners should communicate and reassure them that there are other feel-good moments to experience with one another.

I had also been on the receiving end of some cringe-inducing responses from dudes who thought they could rock my world when I said I couldn't come. Cooper’s advice? "Sexual exploration doesn't have to be orgasm-focused." Partners should communicate and reassure them that there are other feel-good moments to experience with one another.

In Cooper's statement lies my problem. When you're so focused on why you're not orgasming, you become even less likely to do so. While I'll never know if it's the antidepressants or the psyching myself out that's causing my predicament, I do know that being so worried about it certainly doesn't help the situation and, more importantly, it doesn't help me enjoy the sex. Just because I'm not coming doesn't mean I'm not having a great time and feeling good.

You are not your number of orgasms. Whether you come quickly, take a bit to get there or don't come at all, you are still a perfectly normal, perfectly sexual human being. Sex is good, with or without the orgasms. And so are you.