He’s moving inside of you; his breathing gets heavy as he’s closer to climax. But all you feel is that familiar tightness. Not the good kind. The kind that makes you wince when he shifts just a bit too deep. That sharp sting you try to ignore. You bite your lip, trying to focus on anything else—the soft light, the way his hands feel on your skin—but there it is, pulling you out of the moment. Your body tenses, the pain takes over. You feel helpless.
You don’t want him to notice, but he already has. The rhythm breaks. He pulls back a little, eyes flicker to your face. “Does he know?” You’ve gotten really good at masking it, but maybe not this time…
“Why does her face look like that… did I do something wrong or is it painful?” The nagging voice pushes through his mind. “I swear she’s not even into me anymore, she’s just too nice to say it.” As soon as the thoughts pop up, they leave just as swiftly, replaced by guilt. “I shouldn’t even be thinking ‘poor me’; she’s the one suffering.”
He leans down, kissing your shoulder. “Was that real or does he just feel sorry for me?” you wonder. You kiss him back to prove to yourself and to him that you still love him.
This shared silence, full of unspoken tension, and self-doubt, is examined within “No One Has Ever Asked Me and I’m Grateful That You have” Men’s Experiences Of Their Partner’s Female Sexual Pain,” by Dr. Deborah Lovell, Dr. Nikki Hayfiend, and Dr. Zoe Thomas. The study focuses on how men experience their female partner’s pain during sex, exploring their confusion, concern, and emotional reactions.
Female sexual pain
Female sexual pain (FSP) is a real and common issue, affecting millions of women. Estimates suggest that 8-21% of women experience pain during sex. It can be confusing and isolating because many feel dismissed by medical professionals. So, when you ask, “Is the pain real?”, the answer is yes. However, because the causes are complex and often unknown, they can be misdiagnosed or simply ignored.
If you’re experiencing FSP you might be questioning yourself, “Is this all in my head?” Historically, sexual pain was seen as something psychological—what many called “hysteria”. Modern research shows us that female sexual pain has very real physical roots, unfortunately, some women won’t get the answers they need for years.
It’s more than physical
Sex intertwines with how we view ourselves and our relationships. And society mostly gives us a narrow definition of what sex should be—penetrative, pleasurable, and effortless. But what happens when pain disrupts this? Women facing female sexual pain sometimes feel like they’re failing as partners because of the pressured idea that sex must always be perfect. These women want pleasure and intimacy with their partner, and they want it to feel good—they don’t want to give up their sex lives. However, the pain can make them feel “genderless” or like they aren’t “real women.”
When we think about female sexual pain, we don’t necessarily consider how it affects male partners. Of course, it’s vital to focus on the person who’s suffering from the pain—the female perspective, but men are profoundly impacted too, and they can play a key role in supporting and helping their partners. Especially when it comes to conditions like endometriosis. Endometriosis, a debilitating issue that leads to chronic pelvic pain, can create feelings of helplessness in men who just wish they could do more and make their partners feel good Yet, men in couplings with women who have this often report feeling sidelined during medical visits. They express frustration about their partners’ pain and some even question if they (the man) are causing it.
Asking men
The research team recruited men who were in or had been in relationships with women experiencing painful sexual conditions—specifically female sexual pain. They had to be over 18, living in the UK, and their partners needed to have experienced pain during sex (or pain-preventing sex) for at least 6 months.
They initially used an open-ended question online survey to gather the men’s perspectives, understanding, and experiences. However, the researchers had to shift to semi-structured interviews for more follow-up.
The men were asked about their thoughts on their partner’s pain, and how it affected them emotionally and sexually, and in their relationship. For example, participants were asked, “How have you made sense of your partner’s pain?” and “In what ways has your partner’s pain influenced your sex life?” They were asked how they sought help, such as joining their partner at medical appointments.
The male partner’s POV
Men made sense of their partner’s painful sexual experiences by blaming themselves—questioning their desirability and their role—especially before their partner had a medical diagnosis. They assumed the pain could be a sign that their partner had lost attraction to them. One explained, “I couldn’t rule out that it was just that she didn’t want to have sex with me anymore.” Others expressed similar concerns, wondering “Maybe she’s not attracted to me.”
When the women finally received a diagnosis, like vulvodynia, most of the men felt relief. It was no longer a personal rejection, but something biological and out of their control. One man shared how he and his partner burst into tears after finally knowing the truth. But even with a medical explanation, they weren’t all free from doubt, with one admitting “It seems it’s down to menopause, but I don’t think she’s ever fancied me.”
A major discussion point was men feeling like outsiders in the FSP experience. They often felt invisible during medical appointments. “It was like I was over there in the shadows”, said one, while another shared how he struggled to get a word in during doctor visits. This sense of being excluded also extended to the relationship. Men were hesitant to speak up about the pain, fearing they would agitate their partners. They felt powerless—cautious not to say or do the wrong thing.
Shifting the focus
Interestingly, some of them downplayed their suffering, dismissing their emotional and psychological pain because it didn’t compare to their female partners. The men didn’t want to appear “self-indulgent”, or shift focus away from their partner’s experience. Throughout the survey and interview, they would commonly redirect conversations back to their partner, feeling guilty for expressing their own struggles.
“I don’t want to do the ‘poor me’ thing because Ann’s got vulvodynia and it’s a thousand times worse for her.”
And what about taking penetrative sex off the menu? They were okay with it! While some of them initially felt that penetrative sex was quintessential to their sex lives, they discovered an appreciation for other forms of intimacy. One said he would be “quite happy” if sex stopped after “a nice bit of groping”, while another shared “I wouldn’t miss many aspects of penetrative sex.” Instead, they emphasized connection, closeness, and non-penetrative intimacy were just as important.
Time for change
The authors acknowledge a few limitations. For one, most of the participants were white, middle-class men. This doesn’t give us the full picture of how men from various cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds feel. Plus, the study mostly included men in long-term relationships—so we don’t know how FSP can affect newer or more casual couplings.
Further, healthcare providers should actively involve both partners in medical appointments. And the men, who tend to downplay their suffering, need psychological support too. As for future studies? The researchers recommend looking into how bisexual and LGBTQ+ couples experience female sexual pain. Plus, gathering the POVs of men who actually leave relationships due to FSP.
You are also encouraged to consider your treatment options. According to Dr. Rachel Gelman, Pelvis Wellness and Physical Therapist, pain with sex may be caused by pelvic floor dysfunction—tension of the pelvic floor. “If these muscles are tense or in spasms it can cause pain with penetration, clitoral pain, or painful orgasms.”
A pelvic floor therapist can assess these muscles and address any impairments, such as “tension or guarding.” Dr. Gelman also recommends “working on proper breathing techniques [and] posture” as tools to combat pelvic floor issues. And your bowel movements matter too! She notes she’s worked with folks who had to improve their bowel mechanics—such as constipation sufferers—as this can cause or contribute to pelvic floor muscle dysfunction.
Non-penetrative intimacy
Exploring a sex life sans penetration can be intimate, playful, and erotic without the sexual pressure. It’s important to keep the focus on pleasure and connection.
Sensual massage
Transform your bedroom into a mini spa with warm massage oil and soft lights. Let your hands roam over those often-neglected erogenous zones like the scalp, hands, or feet, and keep it sexy with compliments and praise.
Sensation play
Blindfold your partner and use different objects—like a clean makeup brush (or feather), a prickly toy (like a pinwheel), hot wax (like a low-temperature candle, or even an ice cube—to tease their skin. Enhance the experience by surprising them with various sensations.
Erotic storytelling
Snuggle up and take turns reading erotica to each other—spicy or tame, your choice. Add your partner to the story for a personal twist.
Steamy seduction
Soak in a bath with scented salts or take a steamy shower together. Wash each other’s skin, ‘draw’ naughty shapes, and turn up the heat with a passionate makeout session.
Clothes-on make-out
Kiss your partner with teenage enthusiasm. Run your fingers through each other’s hair and explore all the ways to touch while keeping your clothes on. It’s playful, pressure-free, and absolutely thrilling.
Female sexual pain is real, valid, and nothing to be ashamed of. But your sex life doesn’t have to fit a single definition—permit yourself to redefine the rules. Because pleasure isn’t about perfection; it’s about connection, creativity, and what feels right for you.
