Two months after a major breakup, I was feeling reckless in a foreign city. A few Tinder swipes later, I was knocking back cheap beer and pizza with a cute guy, and all of a sudden it was hot breath and fumbling hands in his dark, tiny bedroom. It was my first spontaneous hookup, and it felt both thrilling and alien. But when he tried to penetrate me, I froze. "It's not working," he said, confused. I didn't know how to tell him. We tried a couple more positions before we stopped because of what I'd known all along – I physically couldn't do it.

Welcome to the world of casual sex when you have vaginismus – a disorder that makes penetration extremely painful.

Giselle Nguyen: "With every new hookup, it became less difficult to relax. I became more confident, caring less about people's opinions." Credit:Stocksy

Before the breakup I'd only slept with two boyfriends, and sex had always hurt. I'd been undergoing physiotherapeutic treatment for a year when the big relationship ended. I was terrified – what if I couldn't fix it alone? Was I undatable, unlovable? The fears were compounded when a so-called friend said nobody would be willing to forego sex to be with me. I thought I was broken. I didn't want to be.

I rebounded with several short-lived flings, but penetration was off-limits for most of them. I felt self-conscious – like I was only half of what they wanted. I confided in them, but wanted love and validation much more than sex. Even when I managed pain-free sex with one of these men, I was scared it was second-rate – that I didn't know what I was doing; that he wished I was better.