How Aisha overcame childhood body shame and learned to enjoy fully present, non-performative sex

The beginning

I've always been able to orgasm but these were often "demi orgasms," rather than full ones. And with a partner, I’d frequently give up before I even got to one of these. But it's a long-standing issue for me. When I was 19, I found out I'd been circumcised as a child. 

My dad didn't even know it had happened, as it happened abroad, and my mum just went along with what she thought was normal at the time. I was the only one of my sisters it happened to: I’m the eldest, and I suppose my mum thought differently by the time they came along. It's illegal in this country, and I don't know anyone else who's been through it. That was the start of a difficult relationship with my own body that never really went away.

Then came two kids. Having a body that's dramatically changed shape, and being in the thick of early parenthood, sex stopped being something I desired much. If I was in the mood, I'd get my black lacy robe out — none of my lingerie fit anymore and it made me feel like sexy Snape — and initiate with my husband. I'd showered, I'd moisturized, I smelt good, so I felt mentally prepared. But it was performative. I was doing it for Simon, to make him feel good and to maintain our connection. It wasn't really about me or my pleasure.

To actually get there during sex, I've always drifted off into a fantasy where I was the dominant one, with someone far less attractive than me — what I called my "ugly man fantasy." The logic was: I needed to mentally feel like I was with someone who was grateful to be able to have sex with me, because underneath it I felt so unattractive and so stuck in my head that the only way to switch off was to flip the power dynamic entirely. If that didn't work within a relatively short amount of time, I'd just give up and go straight to penetration.

When I raised my orgasm issues with Simon, he worried that it was about him — was I unhappy, was something wrong between us? But it really wasn't about the two of us. This was my issue alone.

The program

I wasn’t sure the program would really change anything. But I was getting seriously fed up, so I thought it was worth a try.

The AI coaching was the first surprise. I found it really annoying at the beginning, if I'm honest — it kept circling back with the same kind of question, "but what do you think about that?" I thought of it like ChatGPT, something that should just give you the answer instantly on a plate, and kept trying to get it to move on. But then I realised it was doing exactly what a good therapist does, getting me to make my own revelations. You leave a session sometimes thinking "you cow," and then realize it got you exactly where you needed to go. By the end, I was texting it like I was texting a friend.

The anatomy module was the one that hit hardest. There's an exercise where you look at a range of different labia and then look at yourself. I caught myself searching for one that looked like mine — and then had to laugh at myself because of course, no one's looks the same as anyone else's. That’s the point! That module, paired with the module on cultural baggage, was where it clicked why my body image had always felt so loaded. I’m half Indonesian and growing up, I never felt the same as everyone else. I’d never really processed that.

The module on shame was the one where the AI really dug in, and where I ended up telling it about the ugly man fantasy for the first time. It helped me see that I wasn't using that fantasy as a fun, erotic tool — I was hiding behind it. It was blocking me from actually being present and enjoying what was happening, because the whole thing was built on feeling ugly and ashamed in the first place.

I'll admit I skipped past a lot of the mindfulness content — it felt like the boring stretch before the workout, so I didn't always give it the attention it probably deserved. Once I stopped reaching for fantasy to distract myself, being present during sex actually kind of fell into place for me. 

The pleasure tools module was more my speed. I had a lot of insights there: learning that I actually need friction, not loads of lube, and that it's fine to prefer a clitoral sucking vibrator over a neat little bullet, even though stores only ever push the bullet. Luckily, using toys in the bedroom isn’t too much of an issue for me and my husband — he's completely on board, because he knows it's just a fun and spicy tool, not a replacement for him. But I wish that I’d had the language given to me in the program to explain to previous partners.

Speaking of language, the communication module was also where a lot of it came together. I already thought I was good at communication professionally — I've worked in high-stakes contexts where you have to communicate carefully, without triggering someone potentially dangerous. But I wasn't applying a lot of it at home, because I felt annoyed at the idea of tiptoeing around Simon. Chatting to the AI coach helped me work through that. Using "I" statements had always felt selfish, too, but learning to do this as a way to stop someone from becoming defensive was also super helpful.

Where things are now

I haven't reached for the ugly man fantasy since my chat with the coach. I'm not disassociating; I’m totally present during sex now. And I'm not giving up on orgasm after a short amount of time. I understand how long it takes for most women to orgasm and that I’m not too slow, and that I deserve the time. That last one is basically my new mantra: I deserve the time.

It's changed how I think about taking time for sex generally, too. Not feeling guilty about the laundry waiting — realizing that carving out time for pleasure together isn’t selfish. It's part of being in a relationship.

I've noticed the connection between sex and how I show up the rest of the week. When I'm having orgasms and feeling connected to my husband, I'm more forgiving and more relaxed. When I'm not, I notice myself gripping onto control in other places — reorganizing the dishwasher after someone else has loaded it, or getting oddly territorial about someone using my favorite mug. I need that release for my own sake, not just for the relationship.

In short, being able to orgasm more easily has transformed my relationship, both with my husband and myself.

Broader reflections

Halfway through the program, I remember thinking this is life-changing: it should just be part of sex education, for everyone. I'm nearly 40 and I've spent a lot of my life having to learn things the hard way that I wish someone had just told me plainly — that you're allowed to say no, that you're allowed to change your mind, that you have total agency during sex and it’s for your pleasure too. Those aren't conversations we have enough. If you don't talk about this stuff openly, you just end up reinforcing the shame around it.

This is one member's personal experience. Individual results vary, and this story is not medical advice. Always consult a qualified healthcare professional about persistent concerns.

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