Something Nubian

I was 33 years old when I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a condition that left me feeling like the old me had died. The person I once was—vibrant, active, full of energy—was suddenly gone, and I found myself mourning her loss. Like many who receive life-changing news, I went through the ‘5 stages of grief’—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. But even as I reached acceptance, a new emotion crept in: embarrassment.

The Mourning Period

When I first heard the diagnosis, I was in disbelief. How could this be happening to me? I was too young, too full of life, to be facing something so debilitating. Anger quickly followed. I was angry at my body for betraying me, at the universe for dealing me such a cruel hand. Then came the bargaining. I searched for ways to negotiate with my condition, hoping that if I made certain changes, it would go away. But fibromyalgia is persistent, and soon enough, depression settled in as I realized there was no cure. I felt as though the life I knew was over.

Acceptance and Embarrassment

Eventually, I reached a place of acceptance. I understood that fibromyalgia was now a part of my life, something I had to live with. But that acceptance was tinged with a deep sense of embarrassment. At 33, I felt like I should be in the prime of my life, doing the things most people my age were doing—dancing, staying active, enjoying life to the fullest. But instead, I was struggling to keep up, feeling like I was aging before my time. One of the hardest things to accept was how fibromyalgia affected my sex life. It felt like another aspect of my youth was slipping away.

The Irony of Movement

But here’s the irony of fibromyalgia: the more you move, the less it hurts. It’s a cruel twist that just when you feel you can’t move, movement becomes your ally. I realized that I had to fight against the urge to be still, even when my body was screaming for rest. Moving became a habit, a necessity. And this applied to every aspect of my life, including my intimacy. I discovered that fibromyalgia didn’t have to mean the end of my sex life. In fact, it became a journey of rediscovery—finding new ways to connect with my body and my partner, learning that intimacy isn’t just about physical movement, but also emotional connection and communication.

Embracing Intimacy

Fibromyalgia taught me that intimacy is more than just physicality. It’s about being present, being vulnerable, and allowing yourself to experience pleasure in new ways. It’s about communication, patience, and love. And while it may not look the same as it did before, it can still be fulfilling and beautiful. My journey with fibromyalgia has been one of learning to embrace my body as it is, not as I wish it were, and finding grace in the ways I move through life, both literally and metaphorically.

Fibromyalgia may have changed the way I live, but it hasn’t taken away my ability to experience joy, love, or intimacy. If you’re on a similar journey, know that you’re not alone. Accepting your new reality is a process, but it’s also an opportunity to find new ways to connect with yourself and those you love. Movement, in all its forms, can be your ally—even when it feels impossible. And remember, just because your body has changed doesn’t mean your capacity for love and connection has diminished. You are still vibrant, still full of life, and still deserving of pleasure.

Sending positive inner-G, Reiki RaEss