When my bedroom first died, I thought it would get better on its own. I assumed the physical side effects my partner was experiencing would fade over time and things would go back to normal.

I kept trying to initiate intimacy, assuming that he was just self-conscious and embarrassed. I wanted to show him that he didn’t have reason to feel that way, that it didn’t bother me, that I knew it wasn’t something he had control over. There were plenty of other things we could do without full intercourse.

I was met over and over with rejection. The more I pushed, the more he pulled away. Over time it wasn’t just sex that stopped. There was no more cuddling on the couch, no holding each other while we fell asleep. Eventually, we were reduced to nothing more than hugs and kisses hello and goodbye.

The constant rejection and neglect left me feeling unattractive, undesirable, and insignificant. I felt like my feelings and needs didn’t matter to him at all and that led to the next stage…