Page 75 of Try Hard
I clutched her tightly, breathing her in, and decided it was easier talking to her while she held me. “You asked me when I took up swimming…”
“I did,” she said, her tone gentle.
“It’s related.”
“How so?” she prompted after a long moment of us simply standing at the side of the road, holding each other.
“Erm. Well. I developed…it, and… then I had an unpleasant medical experience.” My hands gripped tighter into her hoodie, and she held me closer, reassuring me she was there. I took a deep breath. “I’m sure you remember that I used to weigh quite a bit more, and, you know, god forbid women be anything other than sticks.”
Eve nodded in understanding, her head moving against me. “And they blamed the pain on that.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry, Ophelia.”
I shook my head, barely able to move with how tightly she was holding me, but I didn’t care. “It’s fine.”
“It is not.”
“I’m not the only woman who’s gone through stuff like that.”
She brushed her thumbs against my back. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
I knew she was right. Every time I heard about other people going through similar experiences, I was furious for them, and not just because I’d been there, but because it was inhuman, entirely unfair. But, when I thought about my own experience, I simply tried to brush it all away. I’d been so young when it started, so alone. I’d just spent years trying to get over it, trying to convince myself it was my fault.
“So, you took up swimming?” Eve asked.
“Yeah.” I laughed, the sound broken. “Some of it was my spiteful half.”
“How so?”
“Well, the doctor I saw wouldn’t stop talking about my weight, and the person I was dating—” I gulped. I tried so hard not to think about that time.
“I’m here. You’re safe,” Eve said, and I actually believed her. It loosened something in my chest, helped keep the tears at bay, because I’d never spoken about this and felt safe.
“That person had made comments in the past about my weight, always disguised as jokes, but the second a doctor was saying it, it was like the gloves came off. Not to mention the fact that said person was unhappy because I was incapable of having the kind of sex he wanted.”
I felt the way Eve tensed and I didn’t need to ask to know she was furiousforme, notatme. “He insisted on penetrative sex?” she asked stiffly.
“He did. And I can’t… nothing… in…” I shook my head. “Insertion is not possible for me.”
One of her arms wrapped straight around my back, holding firmly. Her other hand moved to the back of my neck, stroking slowly and soothingly. “I don’t think that what you need is me raging against whoever it was that hurt you, but please know there aresomany choice words in my head for him right now.”
I laughed weakly. “Honestly, it’s kind of nice to have someone furious at him too. It’s just been me, alone, for so long.”
I probably should have given her his name. I wasn’t sure why I was so insistent on protecting his identity from her—from myself in a lot of ways. Like it was just easier to have that distance. As if, no matter what he did to me, I wasn’t allowed to do anything to besmirch his reputation. It wasn’t even anyone Eve knew.
Maybe I just didn’t want them existing in the same space.
She breathed slowly for a few moments before she said, quietly and seriously, “Vaginismus can be caused by psychological factors.”
“Right,” I said, trying not to wince at the word. Eve didn’t say it like it was something shameful, though. So many yearsrefusing to say it and there she was, acting like it was okay that I had it.
“Is that—I mean, you don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to,” I said quickly. “I came to see you because I wanted to tell you, because I was ready to. It’s just complicated because I haven’t in so long.”
“You can take all the time you need.”
