Human Reproductive Stories

Screenshot

I never felt like I had a “reproductive system”

Age:
Geographic Region:

I never felt like I had a “reproductive system.” The term always felt foreign, something that applies to flowers or pets before you neuter or spay them. What has felt accurate is that I was born with a sexual system. This system has always felt a part of me, even before I had words for it; it was pulsing inside of me even as a child. When I was in high school, it unfurled and twisted further, connecting to more than just human attraction – it forged a transformative relationship with music, changed how I saw dance and movement, and felt almost like I had been given a sixth sense to understand the world through.

 

Now in my 40s, it continues to dial up the vibrance of everyday life: depending on what my hormones are doing, the sun can feel warmer, the morning blankets so much softer, and a certain song becomes a new masterpiece to my ears—all made possible by my sexual system. I have since learned that many scientists argue that our sexual system fits our definition of what a sense is. This only further clarified for me why, if forced to, I would absolutely choose my sexual system over my sight—it simply is that crucial to my experience on this earth.

 

However, unlike my visual sensory system, my sexual system brought with it an odd side effect: if I didn’t use contraception, i.e., if I didn’t medicate, undergo repeated painful procedures, and/or significant surgeries, this system might just make a baby. A BABY.

 

However, growing up, no one ever (ever) framed it this way. As a girl, doctors and adults talked to me about the reproductive aspect of my body approximately 1,000 times more than about my sexual system (that’s a figurative, not a statistical figure), even though 99%ish of us have a sexual system, and anywhere from 20-30% will never want to use our reproductive system (those are statistical figures). To me, the reproductive aspect of my sexual system was a bug, not a feature, but I found none of my doctors or therapists seemed to share this perspective.

 

I had a doctor once tell me, “Well yes, it might affect it, but we won’t really know until you try it” when I asked about the sexual side effects of a certain contraceptive. Imagine your doctor treating your vision or hearing with this little regard. “Oh yeah, this contraceptive might affect your vision throughout the month; you might not even be able to drive or ride your bike, but we won’t really know until you try it.” None of my doctors mentioned permanent contraception options to me in my 20s and 30s; in fact, none offered any that I couldn’t stop at a moment’s notice, despite their horrible sexual, physical, and mental side effects. I finally asked in my late 30s about things like hysterectomies and getting my tubes tied because I was pretty sure I didn’t want my own biological children, but they stressed that they did not feel comfortable recommending either option to a 30-something childfree woman.

 

Overall, the message was pretty clear from doctors and family: my future reproductive capacity was my most valuable asset (and thus must be maintained at all costs), even if it meant stressful, painful, hormonal chaos in the present (and for the rest of my life). I’m sad to say that I didn’t know how to ignore their opinions, so I continued another decade of non-permanent contraception options, and finally in my early 40s chose a hysterectomy because it took care of multiple issues.

 

If I could do it all over, I would have gotten my tubes tied in my 20s and saved myself years of stress, pain, hormonal chaos, and most importantly – perhaps given myself the ability to enjoy my sexual system in a fuller way, without the constant fear of pregnancy. I also wish I would have known to fight harder to find therapists and doctors that did not presume which system – reproductive or sexual, was the headliner for me, and which was just the opening act, and as such, would have not discouraged me from maybe just skipping that whole thing. I hope more people find providers and friends who support them if they decide they don’t want to wait until their 40s to prioritize their sexual system over their reproductive one.

Human Reproductive Stories is 100% funded by public support, and all donations are tax-deductible. Every contribution helps more voices to be heard, so thank you for adding your stories and for supporting HRS!