Dont Stop Being Daddys Girl

It all started with a visit to the gyno.

Well, we didn't start having sex in the doctor's office, or anything like that. That'd make it much worse than what it actually was.

How it actually started was wrapped up in so much love and care that to this day, I question the validity of anyone who argues that it's wrong... The relationship between my dad and I, that is.

But I digress. Here's what happened.

I'd just gotten broken up with. Philip was the first person I met when I started attending university in the fall, and it only took a couple of months before we started dating. He'd been fairly pushy about sleeping together, which I didn't mind (it felt nice to be desired by your own partner, anyways). But by the time he finally convinced me to finally get into bed with him, he couldn't fit it in.

I don't think it was because he was too big. He'd looked up at my anxious face and seemed confused. We tried for him to put it in anyways, but even after half an hour of poking at my increasingly-sore hole, he'd lost his erection and I was near the point of tears.

He gave me some bullshit answer about needing physical intimacy to stay connected and then broke up with me.

Six months. That was how long my first relationship was, just a couple of days shy of our six month anniversary.

I was a mess, I think, understandably. It was a relief that the quarter had just finished and I had a couple weeks before starting the summer term. I spent the first couple days back home in my room, crying in bed while listening to my old Evanescence playlists. I'd swipe angrily at my tears with the bitter thought,

at least now that we're broken up, I can listen to as much of my 'shitty music' as I wanted to

.

On the second day, dad knocked on my door.

"Hey, sweetheart." He poked his head in and I turned away from the door. "Can I come in?"

I didn't answer.

He seemed to take that as permission. I heard his footsteps as he drew near, and then the bed sinking where he sat down next to me.

"I brought you something." He sang it.

I closed my eyes and gave a great exhale, trying to fight down my annoyance. He was just trying to help, be a little silly just as it'd always been between us. But still, I felt like my heart was breaking and he was singing at me.

I opened them as I sat up and turned to him.

"Thanks, daddy." The tension leaked out of my body as soon as I saw what he was holding. I took the box from him and flipped open the lid, which he'd already cut open for me.

"Of course." He watched me as I popped a truffle in my mouth, the creamy chocolate coating my tongue. His eyes crinkled at the corners when I offered him one, which he took and ate. We both ate our chocolates, neither of us saying anything. I stared down at my floral bedspread while he looked at me, as if trying to gauge my mood.

Not that it wasn't obvious. Anything other than devastated and broken would've been a stretch.

"Em." He said, his voice gentle. He reached a hand out to sweep away some of my tear-soaked bangs that'd stuck to my cheek. "I know you're probably not prepared to talk about it, but I'm a bit worried. If you need someone to just hear you out..."

He trailed off, his dad energy seemingly made unsure by my renewed sobs. His arms came around me and I wept into his shoulder, my tears seeping into his shirt.

It was nice to just be held by him, and he sat there patting my back for how long I cried. Maybe it was two minutes, maybe it was twenty; either way, he never left my side.

At last when I caught my breath and pulled away from him, wiping at my cheeks with my sleeves, I spoke. My voice was gummy and thick, and I had to keep stopping to hyperventilate. It was slow going, but he sat still and listened with care. "I just thought that we were good together. He was so caring and I liked being his girlfriend. I never thought that he would break up with me over something that seemed so unimportant, and we only tried once--"

At this point I had to stop to breathe, because I was hyperventilating too much.

"You'll have to tell me what you're talking about." He said gently, putting a hand on my knee.

I nodded, wiping at my still-streaming eyes and trying to take deep breaths.

"He wanted to have sex." I began. I saw the flicker of surprise? or discomfort, maybe? in my dad's eyes. "And he couldn't get it in. I think there's something wrong with me down there. He said he's done it fine before, and it must've just been my body. And now I can't make sense of whether it's just that something's wrong with me, or if he's just an asshole for how he broke up with me over it."

I never swore in front of my dad, and I could see that the word itself was shocking too. He didn't say anything about it, his face growing careful as he spoke.

"If someone broke up with me over bedroom performance, I'd probably be crying too." There was a smile on his face. "Your mother probably would've split with me before you were even born."

"Dad." I groaned, laughing anyways.

"Just kidding," he said, but looked pleased that he'd succeeded at making me laugh. And then he ran a hand through his hair, the silver-streaked brown flopping back down. "Listen. I don't know much about that, but I think you're perfect. There's nothing wrong with you."

"But you're like, contractually obligated to say that. You're my dad."

"Okay, but hear me out." He raised his hands up, palms towards me. "I'm just saying. If it would give you peace of mind, we can head to the lady doctor. Then you could get medical certification that I'm right, and that ex-boy of yours is wrong."

It felt like he was joking, but it made so much sense. "Really? I think I might like that, actually."

"Yeah, of course. Insurance covers it. And now that you're older, you should be going to see them regularly, anyways."

A far off look entered his eyes, and that time, I was the one who patted his knee. I knew he was thinking about mom, how if she were still around she'd have been the one to talk to me about all of this stuff. But I didn't want to say that out loud, so I just gave him a tearful smile. "Thanks, dad."

"I'll give them a call. Until then, you sit tight and eat all your chocolates. That's an order."

"Yes, sir." I laughed, pulling the lid open for another truffle.

He stopped before leaving my room, turning from where he grasped the door handle. I saw the softness in his eyes and how much he cared. But then it was gone as he put a smile on for me. "Spaghetti for dinner. You want it in your room again?"

I sighed. This conversation had made me feel a bit better, even though my heart still felt like it was ripping apart. "At the table, today."

"Alright." He said. His eyes flicked across my face, like he wanted to say something else, but then he was stepping out of my room and leaving me alone.

When we ate, hours later, dinner was quiet but not awkward. As I helped him take the plates to the sink, he kissed the top of my head and nearly pushed me out of the kitchen.

"I'm doing dishes tonight. Go and rest, alright?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Just let me."

"My little princess can't get her hands dirty." He said with mock horror, and yanked away the dirty plate I was still holding. "Anyways, the doctor's office said there's a last-minute slot for tomorrow afternoon. I took it."

"That sounds great." I said, and let him push me successfully out of the kitchen.

It'd only been around a week since the breakup, and I'd been in bed for most of that time. It was nice to think that I could now do something. I had a reason to get out of bed, even if it was for something still kind of related to Philip.

But tomorrow, it would either be Philip or my dad that would be right. I kind of hoped that it would be Philip, just because then there'd be a reason that I was broken up with. Otherwise, I felt like there would be nothing.

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and I didn't shed another tear.

The doctor's office was small and clean, and they were playing some classical music that somehow made me feel more nervous about being here. I wanted to cling to my dad as he spoke to the receptionist, but somehow in the back of my mind I was conscious of how I was legally an adult, and at eighteen years old it would be a bit judged.

"I see she's over eighteen, so these are some forms Emily needs to sign." The receptionist handed us a clipboard and a pen, the papers fluttering. "And there's a twenty dollar copay."

"Oh, sure." Dad muttered, pulling his wallet back out.

The receptionist processed the payment. When she handed back the card to him, she looked down at it. "Here's your card back, Justin."

"Thanks." He smiled, and then the two of us sat in the plush chairs while I looked over the papers.

"Why are there so many?" I whispered to him.

"You get used to it." He said, his eyes twinkling.

I just finished up signing and initialing, and then walked back to hand the clipboard back to the receptionist.

"Doctor Kim will see you shortly."

"Thank you."

"Nervous?" He asked as I sat down next to him.

"A little bit, maybe. Do you get to go in with me?" I asked.

"Do you want me to?" He seemed surprised, like he hadn't thought I might want it.

"I mean, I've never been. That doesn't mean you'd be looking at the doctor poking around down there or anything, right?"

His face darkened slightly. "If they asked me to look, I think I'd step out of the room."

I laughed. "Then if you're allowed, I'd feel better if you were with me."

"Your wish is my command." He said.

It wasn't long until someone came out to retrieve us, a small Asian woman in scrubs with a stern face. "Emily Winston?"

It turned out that I was allowed to have a parent, so I followed her in, my dad trailing right behind the both of us.

"I'll have you sit up here, Emily." Doctor Kim said, tapping the examination bed. "Take a seat, dad."

He complied, sitting in a small stool next to the examination bed, where I climbed up on. The doctor fiddled around with something on the computer.

"So you're here about a specific issue. Want to tell me about it?"

I took a deep breath, and then described to her what happened.

She asked me more questions about it, probing into what had actually happened sexually. I refused to look at my dad's face, and was just starting to regret asking him to come when she nodded.

"I have a hunch about what might be happening. If you're comfortable, I'd really like to take a look."

Despite my embarrassment, I looked at my dad. He just gave me a look, but didn't give me any indication one way or the other.

"Sure." I said. Anything to get to the bottom of what was happening with me.

"Great." She stood up, then, and from a bin she grabbed a paper blanket, handing it to me. "I'll go prepare what I need. In the meantime, you can undress from the waist down and keep yourself covered with this. Any questions?"

"No." I said, taking the blanket from her.

"I'll knock before entering. Get comfortable." And she left.

I looked down at the paper blanket. "At least she's efficient," I said to my dad, who surprisingly had a bit of an embarrassed expression on his face.

"Maybe I should go back to the waiting room," he said, standing up.

"Oh." I said, trying to hide my disappointment. But it seemed he noticed it anyway.

"Or I can stay." He said immediately, sitting back down.

"I just feel better when you're with me." I said, feeling bad. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"That's the only thing that matters, sweetheart. Do you want me to step out while you get situated?"

"That's okay." I said quickly. "Maybe you just turn around?"

He did as I said, and I hopped off the table to pull off my jeans and my underwear. The cold air of the room felt violating on my bare legs and butt, and I felt goosebumps crawl up my arms as I folded my clothes and put them on the corner of the bed.

I climbed back up, pulling the blanket onto my lap.

"Okay, you can turn back around." As he did, I ran my hands over the paper blanket, which hung past my knees. It crinkled with the movement. "This thing feels awful."

He laughed. "It certainly doesn't look comfortable."

There was a knock as Doctor Kim spoke through the door. "Are you covered, Emily?"

"Yes, come in!"

She entered, holding some things in paper packets which she placed on the metal tray. I eyed them nervously, and surprisingly when she noticed my expression she laughed.

"Don't worry. It's very likely we won't use any of these things today."

I could see she had brought a couple of speculums, and their metallic glint looked sinister in the fluorescent lights. But reluctantly, I nodded.

She was very thorough in walking me through lying down and spreading my legs apart, and even though my heart fluttered I felt much better that my dad was with me.

"I'm going to use a gloved finger to examine your vulva, now. Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable, alright?"

"Okay." I closed my eyes, my breath whistling through my nose when her finger trailed down my skin.

"How are you doing?"

"Good." I said, my breath catching in my throat. Her finger disappeared from me.

"Can I gently touch the area around your vagina to see how your muscles respond?"

It felt weird that she was asking me when she was already there. But still, I nodded. And then realized she couldn't see that. "Yes."

I jumped when I felt the latex poking around there, making slight plasticky sounds.

But then she rolled her chair back, her gloves rasping as she removed them and then dropped them into the trash. "That's the hard part. You can sit back up, now."

That was it? I sat up and covered my legs.

She got a pump of hand sanitizer and rubbed it into her hands as she spoke. "It was just as I suspected. You have a condition called vaginismus, where those muscles will tighten up on their own. Since you said you use tampons just fine, it's not the most severe, but as it stands intercourse may be pretty difficult, just as you experienced.

"The reason why this happens can vary from person to person, but for many patients it's from being nervous or scared. You're not broken or anything," she said, and there was a smile on her face like she'd read my mind. "And luckily, there are many ways to overcome this condition. The important thing is to go slowly and on your terms, to help your body relax and feel safe. Rushing it will just make things worse and it may just cause you pain."

I nodded stiffly. In some ways, Philip was right. Even though Doctor Kim directly said that I wasn't broken, I still felt like something was wrong with me.

"It's very treatable, Emily." She reassured me. "And what I want to do is print out some reading for you, so you understand what this condition is. There are some treatment options. I can refer you to a pelvic floor physical therapist. They would help you recognize and relax those muscles gradually. Or, there's something called dilatory therapy, which are smooth tubes of different sizes that you'd use at home to essentially desensitize those muscles."

She looked at me like she expected me to say something, which made me bite my lip. I was starting to feel a little overwhelmed, and on top of that for her to ask me about what I wanted to do? "I'm not sure."

"That's understandable." She said, offering me a smile. "In that case, here's what I recommend..."

The ride home was silent. I wasn't in the mood to say much, and my dad respected it as he drove. Before we left, my dad had suggested we get ice cream or something, but I only shook my head. I was relieved that the office was only fifteen minutes or so from home, because that minimized the amount of time that I couldn't be by myself.

"Thanks for taking me." That was the only thing I said to my dad as I practically ran inside, not looking back to see if he was following.

It was only until I went back into my room and shut the door that I felt like I could finally breathe. I stripped down, tossing my clothes onto the floor, and climbed under the covers.

The last part of our conversation had been mortifying. She had told me to spend some time trying to relax and feel comfortable, and to slowly try inserting a finger into myself. Doctor Kim really emphasized how important it was for me to do things gradually, and to come see her again in a month. Then, we could figure out what the next steps should be.

But first was to read through the packet she'd given me and try doing it on my own.

It'd just been mortifying to be told by my doctor to finger myself in front of my dad.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between reading articles about vaginismus, watching videos, and doomscrolling. When my dad knocked on my door for dinner, I told him I wasn't hungry.

He poked his head in, and I saw the concern on his face. "I'll set aside a plate for you on the counter, then. If you... if you need anything, sweetheart, just let me know."

"Thanks, daddy." I offered him a smile, which he returned. I wasn't in the mood to say anything more, and when the door closed with a soft snick I let out another breath.

It was only after I finally heard him go into his room that I seriously thought about what Doctor Kim had directed me to do. She'd given me these little packets of lube, which I picked out of my bag. I stared at them, turning over the little things that looked like hot sauce packets. And before I could change my mind, I ripped one of them open.

I squeezed a little bit out onto my finger. It was thick and clear and reminded me of hair gel.

With my heart racing, I got up to turn out my bedroom lights and then slipped off my pants. For some reason it felt like taking my panties off would be too much, so it was just my bare legs slipping against my silky sheets. I rearranged my pillow so I could recline against it, and then put on a playlist of quiet music.

I'd never fingered myself before, so when I reached down to spread lube around down there, I had no idea what I was doing. There was a nub that sat between my lips and at the top of my slit, and when my finger slid over it there was a thrill that ran through me.

I moved my finger between my lips, spreading the lube along my lips. I used my fingers to spread them, and tentatively placed the tip of my finger on the hole there, where Doctor Kim had examined earlier. My muscles flexed tightly, and when I pressed my finger in they barely gave. It was almost like there was no hole there at all, and I wondered how people supposedly had sex at all.

I exhaled, touching the ridged inner lips that lined my vagina. I thought I was familiar enough with my body, but apart from cleaning myself in the shower I never touched this part of myself. It felt foreign.

My stomach tightened when I touched my clitoris again.

The doctor's instructions rang in my ears, and it was the thought that I needed to make myself comfortable that I used the lube to stroke that little nub.

It felt good, my pulse quickening in response to the shocks of pleasure that ran through me every time I stroked it. At the very tip it was extra sensitive, and I could feel where it was slightly ridged and firm. I pressed my finger against the top and made little circles, and that was what made a gasp leave my mouth.

The sensation wasn't too intense, but it was just enough to make the muscles at my center clench together. I touched myself like that, glad for the lube that eased the movement. And after a bit, I moved my finger back down.

Even with the lube already there, I could tell that I'd grown wet. Heat emanated from my closed off passage, and when I trailed my finger through it, a shiver went through me.

I decided to try once again.

I put pressure against my heat and felt it give just slightly. When I pressed harder, though, my finger barely moved.