Updated: Aug 14
I’ve lost my desire for sex...
I don’t think about it, I don’t crave it, I don’t exude it. It’s just
gone. I have memories of it. There are brief flashes of sexy lingerie, slow grinding, and penetration, but they are faint. It’s ironic really because I am an artist who uses my sensuality to deliver my message, it’s part of how I move, it’s in me. I can still sense its presence within me but perhaps it’s getting suffocated by the chemo.
When the doctor gave the news that I would have to start chemo because my breast cancer had spread to my liver, my spirit lifted out of my body and just stared down at me and the doctor, waiting to see what would happen next. I think my spirit expected me to cry, but I didn’t. I heard the doctor list the possible side effects of treatment and when he got to the sex part I didn’t pay too much attention to what he said because I was certain it would not affect me.
Well it did, and it happened instantly. I had no chance at a last hoorah, no slow decline, just an immediate lack of interest in sex. The sexy dancing in the mirror stopped, the flirting with random strangers stopped, the sexy photo shoots stopped. It wasn’t just the loss of physical sex, it was also the loss of everything connected to sex. A decrease or loss of sexual desire, inability to maintain sexual arousal, decrease or loss of vaginal and vulva lubrication, difficulty or inability to achieve orgasm, pain during sex, pain or numbness of the genitals, not to mention the emotional side effects. It was like one day I’m a sex goddess with two breast and a head full of hair and the next day I’m bald with only one nipple left. It felt instant and so sudden.
I’m having to readjust how I move. It’s not hard but it sucks. I’m still me, I still have the same personality, the same smile, the same swagger but I move different now. Sex is an important part of a romantic relationship, so I am having to find creative ways to keep the fire going in my own relationship. Trying to heal and function as normal as possible is a full-time job when you have cancer. You learn to smile even when you don’t really want to because nobody wants to be around sadness. There is more to life then just sex but there is no denying that sex plays an important part. For right now that part of me is on hold and I must be ok with that, I have no choice. I’m working on adjusting to my new norm, I haven’t yet but I’m sure I will.
About the Author:
My name is Marie Michaelle and I am a Spoken Word Artist. I write and perform my own words for audiences. I have two published books of poetry and am currently working on my third. In May 2017 I was diagnosed with Stage 1 Breast Cancer and I lost my entire left breast. Doctors removed the cancer cells and told me that I had caught it early enough and the chances of the cancer returning or spreading was about 12%. A year later in May of 2018 I found out the cancer had spread to my liver. I am now at stage 4 and am fighting the biggest battle of my life to date.
Cancerversity opens conversations about cancer survival, statistics, treatments, and screening practices to bridge the gap in health equity for young women of color. The Cancerversity community welcomes young adult cancer patients, survivors, and their caregivers.
Connect With Us!