What a Pelvic Exam Taught Me About Falling in Love

Who knew that a speculum could become a tool of awakening?

Photo by Gustavo Fring

“Your blood pressure is a bit high, but I’m guessing that’s probably due to anxiety about being here.”

I glanced at the exam table where she had placed the gown and paper sheet and grimaced. “I’ve come to realize I’ll never outgrow my discomfort with a pelvic exam, no matter how old I get,” I said.

She laughed. I didn’t.

When she left and I hastily undressed, worried the doctor would suddenly pop in the moment I bent over to step out of my panties, getting herself a nice eyeful of ass, I was flooded with memories of the last time I’d had to do this. Summer 2021 after a romantic adventure ended in absolute disaster. I could still feel the humiliation as if it had happened a few months ago.

But like any brave soul with a vagina, I shrugged on that stiff, polyblend gown, awkwardly sat at the edge of the exam table, and tucked the paper sheet around my hips, my spine straight as an arrow. Only the nervous swinging of my feet gave me away.

I liked my new doctor a lot and was quite proud of myself for keeping up my end of the conversation and maintaining eye contact throughout the breast exam, and up until she inserted and opened the speculum, which predictably had me taking in a sharp breath.

Once again, I remembered the last time I’d been on my back on an exam table, the last time a foreign object had been inserted inside me, under much worse circumstances.

I had to stop talking and let her finish up that part of our conversation as I focused on 4-count breathing.

When she told me I could sit up, you’d think I’d just been nudged with a cattle prod for as fast as I returned to my previous position. She thoughtfully left to allow me to get dressed and said she would return to wrap up the appointment in a few moments.

I clumsily yanked my clothes back on, nearly falling into the wall when one leg of my pants got stuck on an uncooperative foot, then I descended back onto the chair, crossing my legs, making myself into the picture of grace and dignity to face the woman who had just been poking around my vagina, as if there’s…