My Microperforate Hymen and Me
I lost my v-card to science.
My first ‘real’ relationship was a long-distance one, with someone all the way across the country. I saved up meticulously so that I could see him. We tried, during this time, to sneakily (he still lived with his parents) make the beast with two backs. But try as his cis self might, he couldn’t penetrate me.
Before this point, I’d never tried to even so much as use a tampon. My downstairs area was something I didn’t want to be near, at all. My hands only ventured to that area during bathroom visits and showers, and even then I wouldn’t like my hands to stay around that area for long.
If you haven’t gotten the drift yet, hi- I’m Oliver and I’m a trans man. I was born with a vagina, which I’ve come to embrace. During this story, I hadn’t come to terms with my identity yet, it wasn’t something that I wanted to come to terms with. I figure telling you my identity will explain some of my behaviors in this- plus my story leads into me coming to understand myself as trans.
When I got home from my trip, my mother was told all about how I wasn’t able to have penetrative sex. My mother and I have a very open relationship, she even reads my Medium stories from time to time- Hi mom! Anyhow, neither of us knew exactly what was up, but to the best of her knowledge all she could figure was wrong was that I wasn’t enticed enough to have allowed the event to occur.
I wasn’t satisfied with this answer and figured I would find out myself what the issue was. I worked myself up one night and used my fingers in an attempt to get to the root of the issue. Things didn’t end so well and I received both a UTI as well as a complete breakdown.
Why couldn’t I be normal?
Why couldn’t I be like everyone else?
Wasn’t my body made for this?
I did something I find hard to do to this day- I contacted a doctor. An OBGYN, in fact. Having to explain to the office what was wrong was one of the most excruciatingly embarrassing events of my life, but I got through it. Fortunately, the OBGYN was an open and kind woman with who I felt comfortable.
Unfortunately, no speculum would comply with us (or rather, I guess my body wouldn’t comply). It wasn’t until a q-tip was brought out that she knew what was amiss.
“You have a microperforated hymen.”
What did that mean? Sex ed didn’t teach me that! It hardly even taught me about testicular torsion, not that that was useful to my body.
Turns out, hymens come in all different shapes and sizes. Mine was very big, making it hard for anything beyond my menstruation to flow through.
I cried. I thought something was seriously wrong with me, but I just needed a little corrective surgery to fix an issue. But that doesn’t mean people with genitals that don’t fit the ‘norm’ have anything wrong with them! It means I was uneducated to a point that I didn’t know there were no strict ‘normals’ and figured I was just ‘wrong’. A surgery was swiftly scheduled, for which I didn’t have to wait long.
My father, whom I don’t consider myself to have the best relationship with, told everyone about my upcoming surgery. It was absolutely humiliating because I knew they all most likely figured how I found out about my problem. Note to readers: Don’t talk about other people’s medical issues unless you have express permission from them to do so!
Not too far later, I got my surgery. It was so embarrassing watching a handsome nurse introduce himself to me with the rest of the staff only to know moments later what he was going to be working on. I came out ok, though. Not much pain, just ok. I was up and moving in no time, though I had to wear pads for a long while after.
I had my hymen surgically removed and had to, as I like to say, ‘medicinally masturbate’ in order to stop myself from scarring closed. It wasn’t as fun as masturbation and was actually more in line with dilation- something you wouldn’t expect a trans man to have experience with. Essentially I would stretch myself open as well as apply a cream (estrogen-based, I believe) to help with the healing process. Many tears were shed, not in physical pain but rather in emotional pain.
It was excruciating having to put some much time and effort into the area in question, but I think that I’ve developed more appreciation for it. I’ve worked for what I have, in a way. The experience also taught me that there’s no one ‘correct’ way for someone’s sex organs to be. Some people don’t have a hymen at all, though it’s rare.
Reflecting on this, one big takeaway I have is that we need to educate ourselves better on bodies. We also need to hold educational institutions accountable to educate people better. I thought I had failed as a person due to the small difference in my body, I can only imagine what everyone else must feel when they get corrective surgeries for other issues, or even when they just appear different.
Another thought that strikes me is how much of a social construct virginity is. Is virginity strictly lost via PIV penetrative sex? If so, did my first partner ensure my loss of virginity, or was that through my procedure? My next partner, perhaps? People equate hymens so much to virginity and yet my cherry was popped by science.
And before anyone asks: yes, I have had sex now. I don’t think it’s something I could have or would have done without my surgery. I feel more in tune with myself now and have more appreciation for how I am.
