Recently I had a break-up. It wasn’t a bad break up. It wasn’t a violent break-up and the person I was dating is still a friend of mine and a good person, but the relationship we were in was sexually traumatic and it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

For the last 8 months of my life, I’ve been living with what most people know as a UTI, but because they are so common in women, and not very common in men, they’re not taken very seriously but let me tell you, they really are. Women have a lifetime risk of over 50% of developing a UTI. 20–30% of women will experience recurring UTIs. They can be easily diagnosed with a urine sample and can be cured within 2–3 days of treatment but, as someone who has given birth, I frequently experience the symptoms of a UTI even after being on antibiotics to cure the last UTI I had.

UTI’s factors are increased by sexual intercourse, diabetes, bowel incontinence, pregnancy, menopause, the use of spermicides or tampons, heavy use of antibiotics (which btw are used to cure UTIS), and suppressed immune systems.

The side effect of a UTI can include but is not limited to: A strong a frequent urge to pee, strong-smelling urine, nausea and vomiting, and abdominal pain. These are also things that I’ve consistently experience simply from being pregnant and having a child. I’ve had a strong and frequent urge to pee since giving birth… over 9 years ago. I went to the doctor 6 times in 6 months to get help for this, sometimes two weeks apart and one week the tests wouldn’t show a UTI and the next it would. My doctors continued to imply that I simply must have an STI despite having proof from just weeks earlier that I did not have a sexually transmitted infection. People who have multiple partners are often accused of this despite practicing safe sex. Women’s health care is a fucking disaster and seemingly nobody’s doing jack shit to help us.

I digress, I spent the last 8 months of my life convincing myself that the pain I was feeling during sex and after was normal, despite knowing for a fact that I had never experienced days of pain after sexual intercourse. I had myself convinced that my body was simply rebelling against me because it had been a while since I had had sex, or the opposite, that I hadn’t waited long enough to have sex again after having sex.

I made excuse after excuse desperately trying to justify the fact that I was in agonizing pain for 2–3 days after having sex. Maybe his dick is too big, maybe my vagina in too small, maybe there’s not enough foreplay, maybe there’s too much foreplay. Turns out I had just been living with a urinary tract infection that I had been given antibiotics for 8 months prior but once again my body was screaming for me to go get help. I had been taught my whole life that pain is just a part of being a woman. Beauty is Pain. Periods suck but it’s only a few days a month. Be strong, you’ll get through this, you have to because you’re a role model, you’re a mom, you can do this.

As a result of this, I’ve suffered sexual trauma. My sex drive has virtually vanished. I have no desire to feel wanted sexually and I can’t even think about someone desiring me without my skin crawling dashed with a hint of nausea. I can’t say it was anyone’s fault but my own but if we look at the bigger picture, I wonder how many times this has happened to me before. I wonder how many other people are suffering. I have health insurance and yet, I am perpetually in fear of going to the doctor because every time I leave I’m sent another $250 bill because my medical insurance only covered $100 of my doctors visit since Urinary Tract Infections are considered “preventable” and not a “routine” check-up.

I had to end my relationship because reasonably so, a relationship whose foundation was somewhat built on a mutual sexual attraction to each other started to rip apart at the seams when I no longer found my partner sexually desirable. Every time he went to hold me my body screamed in agony and my flight response alarm in my head kept telling me to getaway. Reasonably so he felt rejected and hurt and isolated from me as any 20-something sexually active person would if their partner went from jumping their bones regularly to shutting completely down not only sexually, but eventually emotionally as well due to experiencing sexual trauma.

As a survivor of sexual trauma, the issues are compounded. My trauma as a 29-year-old is exasperated by the trauma I experienced as a 7-year-old, as a 10-year-old, as a 17-year-old, as a 21-year-old, as a 23-year-old, as a 24-year-old, as a 27-year-old. It all compounds and builds up and now, as a 29-year-old staring 30 in the face, I wonder, will it all just erupt someday or will it settle beneath my skin, haunting me every time a partner runs their fingers down my arm or wraps their arms around me before whispering, goodnight.