What My Body Knew
I was 33 years old when a clinician looked me up and down, inside and out, and told me there was no plausible explanation for my early menopause-like symptoms. My then husband sat beside me as I slumped deeper into the chair, my last shred of dignity as a woman dissipating as I sat in the sterile, white-walled room surrounded by pamphlets on vaginal rejuvenation and finding my “mojo.” My hormone levels were entirely normal. I had no children or history of vaginal trauma. I had explored the standard of care options with my GYN and was now dabbling with the experimental treatment realm of lasers and platelet rich plasma injections. My then husband asked, “what is she supposed to do?” The clinician’s frank solution, “just use lube.”
I had been experiencing a progressive onset of unexplained symptoms for years. My then husband had grown increasingly impatient with my body. At least this was how I experienced it. My issues had landed us in couples therapy, not an entirely unfamiliar territory for us, with a therapist who was also exacerbating treatment options and therapeutic support. She suggested my then husband just wanted to be heard; his opinions wanting to be validated. A year then ensued of me educating myself on all things women’s health. And in between laser treatments, injections, homeopathic remedies and eventually hormone replacement therapy, I slowly died to the belief that I was ruining my marriage.
It was not until years later, on the other side of multiple affair disclosures and a handful of therapists, I understood the physical manifestations that my 30-something-year-old body were telling me; manifestations that my brain could not register. The body knows when something is off with an intimate partner, and the symptoms of knowing present in many fashions. My experience with relational intimacy consisted of a sharp pendulum swing between sexual objectification and sexual rejection. This was my only experience with relational intimacy; the only story I had known for 14 years. The brutal honesty, dear partner, is having healthy intimacy with someone who is actively engaging in compulsive sexual behaviors, including pornography use and long-term affairs, is simply not attainable. My body knew what my brain could not process or bear to comprehend.
My purpose in sharing such a vulnerable component to my betrayal trauma story is to simply say, you are not alone. I want to bring such vulnerable and life-altering physical manifestations into the light, because we are worth more than suffering in silence. I want to express a need in the therapy community, in support circles, and among partners, for our bodies to be regulated, after surviving chronic, hypervigilant states. This, dear partner, is where a foundation for complete healing begins. And you are not alone.
Sexual healing came much later in my recovery journey, but I am eternally grateful for the care, compassion, regulation and grace I instilled in my body before that next chapter began. Here are a few exercises and practices that were beneficial in regaining regulation, that ultimately helped to prepare my body for sexual healing:
Working with a Breathwork Coach
Vinyasa and Yin Yoga
Walking in Nature
Meditation
Daily Journaling & Prayer
Choosing to care for my body in the healing, dear partner, has left me with a greater appreciation for the resiliency we carry in our bones. The capacity of one body to not only tell us when we are under deeply concerning stress, but to recover one step, one breath, one stretch at a time into a body that is built to receive self love and relational intimacy. Honor the body God has given you, dear partner. We are worth more than suffering in silence. Let us bring this part of our story vulnerably into the light.
