The male contraceptive pill is in the news again, and, having done two years' of clinical trials, I hope this time it will really happen.

It is for commercial and social reasons that the male pill is not yet available, not scientific ones – the drug companies think men won't be interested, and they think women won't trust men who say: "Don't worry, darling, I'm on the pill." But my experience, albeit more than a decade ago, was largely positive, and those attitudes are seriously outdated.

The first time I took part, I was off with my then-partner to the family planning clinic, when she said: "It's so unfair that there isn't a pill you could take instead of me. Would you, if you could?" There's really only one answer to that question. When we got to the clinic there was a cheesy poster on the wall showing Neil Armstrong on the moon, captioned "Be the first man on the pill!" And so the deal was done.

That first time was a pair of daily progesterone pills to knock out the wee men, plus an undignified monthly injection of testosterone in the arse to counteract their feminising effects. There was also an even more undignified monthly photo shoot, starring my prostate, protracted on occasion because giggling apparently makes it hard to get a clear picture. This won't be required once the drug companies go into full production, though, and neither will the monthly semen samples.

I know it was effective because someone looked very carefully at that semen through a microscope. But there was a price to pay. The weekend before the testosterone shots, the progesterone was in charge. My partner said to me: "You're weepy, irrational, and comfort eating – do you think it's possible you're premenstrual?" I argued with her, of course, but eventually the pattern was undeniable.

The second time they gave me a year-long progesterone implant in the arm, plus quarterly arrowhead-shaped implants of testosterone in the belly. I still have the four scars. Other than that, the science worked perfectly. Of course, the researchers advised everyone to keep using condoms, but I doubt anyone did. The look down the microscope confirmed there was nothing there, after all.

What's more, the hormones were frankly brilliant. I have never felt better. Whether all in my head or not, there was a lot of sexiness that I could only attribute to a double dose of male hormones perfectly tempered with one dose of the female variety. The marketing department presumably never got my feedback – it'd be on the shelves already if they had.

Although the latest breakthrough works by stopping sperm being released, I think it's generally good for men and women to spend a little time with each other's hormones. It was a strangely powerful experience. I'd happily do it again, too, except I've taken now-permanent responsibility for my desire not to have kids.

And the social anxiety about whether men can be relied upon to take it is misplaced. Women relying on the pill in a hetero partnership already need to trust their men not to give them STIs, some with far worse consequences than an unwanted pregnancy. If two people have a relationship where that trust is required already, why rule out the male pill?

So bring it on. There's enough sexism out there. If taking the pill could just as easily be a male responsibility as a female one, wouldn't that be one small step towards equality?