When Hormones Change Everything

I was 14 when I started hormonal birth control. 

During a trip to the emergency room when I was so sick that I kept vomiting, a doctor who was externally poking and prodding at my body felt abnormalities around my pelvis. “When was your last period? Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” I remember the doctor asking me, as my parents stood a couple feet away from me with worried looks on their faces. 

I was still a virgin.

Not long after that emergency room visit , I was at my very first gynecologist visit with a very patient and kind doctor that I ended up seeing for years. Since I’d not had sex, he did an external ultrasound, saying something about not traumatizing my body with the internal wand. He saw ovarian cysts, and not just any ovarian cysts, but a 9cm cyst on my right ovary.

He prescribed me my first pack of birth control pills, wrote me a doctor’s note excusing me from all heavy lifting & intense physical activity until I could have surgery to have the cyst removed. I was told that if it ruptured, it could kill me. There I was, 14 years old and suddenly terrified of dying.

The cyst didn’t rupture. It was safely removed a few months later, though it wasn’t until a decade later that a doctor told me that I have PCOS, or polycystic ovary syndrome. This is all to say that I’ve had hormonal problems most of my life. 

At 37, I decided that I was curious about how my body worked without birth control, without my hormones being regulated with pharmaceuticals. Did I need the extra hormones? How would my body respond without them? Would a change in diet, brought on by a change in continent & differences in food regulations, have an impact on me?

I had a lot of questions, but stupidly, I didn’t talk to a doctor about them. I didn’t even consult the internet. I just finished my last pack of birth control pills that I brought from the US, and then simply did not get a replacement for them. What better time to go off hormones than when everything around me was new and different? Ha.

A lot of things changed, though it took time to notice some of the changes and even longer to accept some of them. My hormonal acne on my throat came roaring back, I had insane sugar cravings, I had deeper feelings of depression for seemingly no reason, I was irritable, I was irrational, I was horny as fuck.

(We’ll get back to that last change in a moment, don’t worry.) 

After 6 months of no birth control, 5 months of periods, 5 months of cramps & migraines, 5 months of increased sugar cravings, 5 months of acne so bad that I couldn’t film for 2 weeks every month, 5 months of emotional mood swings that caused a lot of turmoil in my marriage… I’d had enough. I went to see a doctor and asked to go back on birth control. I couldn’t stand it anymore. 

Which is where I am now, 12 days before I turn 38. Back on birth control. Back on hormones. But somethings didn’t, or haven’t, gone away.

As the hormones in my body started changing, so did my libido and my sexual desires. 

The first noticeable change came a couple weeks after I stopped taking birth control: I started losing entire days because I was staying in bed masturbating. I’d spend hours edging myself. I’d have multiple orgasms each time I laid down to masturbate. I’d use a freshly charged vibrator until it needed charging again, only to grab a different one to finish the job (or just keep edging myself further). I’d masturbate in the morning, again in the afternoon, and again before going to sleep. I’d have sex with my wife and then masturbate even more. 

I couldn’t stop. The pleasure wasn’t enough. My body needed more. I was insatiable. It got to the point of “oh shit, I think I need to worry about this.” 

I’d joke about it on social media, while privately confiding in my wife that it was causing me to fall behind with work. I felt embarrassed about how often I was masturbating and how powerless I felt to my own libido. I was raised Catholic, so I’m no stranger to a dash of shame with my sex & masturbation. But this? This was different. I felt out of control. 

My wife would leave the house and I’d slide into bed with whatever vibrators were charged. I’d stop as soon as I heard the door unlocking, even if I hadn’t finished. I’d sheepishly pretend to just be taking a nap or be in the bedroom for some other, non-sexual need. I was feeling more shame than ever before. 

Vibrators started dying, not just needing recharging, but actually dying. Sure, my toy reviews were becoming more and more thorough, and I was able to write more reviews than ever before. And yet, it still wasn’t enough. I was feral. I was insatiable. I wasn’t meeting my self-imposed work deadlines. I wasn’t able to stay focused on work, on movies or shows, on conversations. I was a fucking mess. 

I needed to find ways to distract myself from the growing need inside of me. Masturbation wasn’t cutting it. Sex with my wife wasn’t cutting it. I kept thinking that there was something that I wasn’t getting that my body needed, but at that point, I still wasn’t sure what it was. 

I started texting my long distance, long term, low commitment casual boyfriend more and more. Far more than we ever texted before. I was sending more lewds & nudes than ever before too. Thanks to his work, he occasionally travels to Europe, and I was ready to cross boarders to get beneath him. He was scheduled for another European visit at the end of August into early September, so I kept my fingers crossed that the trip wouldn’t fall through. I was supposed to see him in March in Brussels, but his trip was canceled a few days prior so we weren’t able to see each other. At that point, I still didn’t know what I was craving, but I knew I wanted him. 

One day, things started to slowly click into place. I wanted a very specific kind of sex… one that my wife, the beautiful bottom that she is, just wasn’t able to give me. We tried! I’d go down on her while she filled my pussy with a dildo, or I’d bend over in doggystyle as she hand pumped a dildo into my pussy as hard & fast as she could. It helped bridge the gap, but it still wasn’t quite what I wanted. On the bright side, it helped me further identify what I wanted. 

I wanted to be manhandled. I wanted to get fucked. I wanted to be bitten, scratched, grabbed, spanked, thrown around. I wanted primal energy. I wanted to feel the hunger someone felt for me. I wanted to lose myself in pleasure. I wanted power play dynamics in which the scales could tip in either direction at any time. 

For the first time in years upon years, I felt the desire to submit. Not for pain or really anything kink related, just sexually. I wanted to be used. I wanted to be taken. My desire to submit is a rarity, and it has only come to the surface with very specific people in my life. The last time I can remember thinking that I wanted to submit was in a semi-desperate attempt to maintain a fading relationship with a side-piece boy toy.

Desperation got the best of me, and I couldn’t wait. I told my long distance lover what I wanted, even though August was still over a month away, and I knew that at best, I’d only get to see him towards the end of the month. I decided it was time to start dating again. I’d just met someone who I ended up having crazy chemistry with and I wanted to explore that connection. I wanted to explore beyond that connection too. I had a vague idea of what I wanted from dating, but it was based more on past experiences over anything else. I just knew I needed something that my wife wasn’t able to give me.

Things with the first person I met started heating up quickly. After the first time he went down on me, I found myself fantasizing about his growls in my ear, his face between my legs, his fingers buried inside me, his roughness, his primal energy. I was hooked. I wanted more. A week or so later, my wife was out of town and he was in my bed, having come over late at night after I’d already smoked my bedtime indica. I was horny, I was high, and I was hungry for pleasure. The sex was good, I think, but it was the manhandling, the primal energy, and the honorific that he called me that stuck with me and left me hungry for more. 

The chemistry between us was like a drug that I craved more of. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, I couldn’t stop thinking of how he made me feel. He’d mention trying things that were once outside of my comfort zone, and I found myself curious, open to ideas for things that had once been off limits with me. What was happening?! But more importantly, why were some of those very things he wanted to try with me, things that I’d been thinking of trying anyway?? 

The newness of the connection had me build a wall, though through his warmth & charm, that same wall was rapidly falling. There was a fear of giving too much away building inside me, and I could see his walls up too, which wasn’t surprising given that everything was still so new. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to handle him. All I knew was that I wanted more. 

Somehow, I’d finally made it past the middle of August and my hunger still hadn’t felt satiated. A week before, I booked my train to Paris to see my lover, and the heat between my thighs was practically pulsating. The thought of being pounded into the mattress for three nights by my long time lover was driving me even more crazy. I could practically feel his breath on my neck, his voice in my ears, his fingers at my clit while he fucked me from behind in the shower… 

Within an hour of arriving at the hotel where he was staying in Paris, my toes were in his mouth and my pussy was being stretched open as his cock reminded me how out of practice I am. There’s a difference between a dildo and a cock, and even though I’ve spent a good deal of time stretching my pussy lately, I hadn’t taken a cock like his since… well… either the last time I filmed XXX porn with a cis-man, or the last time he & I had seen each other. He gave me what I wanted, bending me up like a pretzel, holding me down, manhandling me, growling in my ear, forcing eye contact as I came on his cock. Over and over again. 

I left Paris with a sore pussy, arrived back in Den Haag, and a few hours later, proceeded to fuck my wife the way I’d been fucked all weekend. I felt rejuvenated and satiated, though I could feel a hunger for more. I realized that while letting someone dominate me sexually was something I wanted to try, once I’d gotten what I wanted, I didn’t really care about doing it again. Was it a case of that dynamic not fitting into such a long standing relationship? Or was it a case of I just don’t care to submit again? 

I decided to test myself the next time I saw the guy I was seeing. He and I had a fun dynamic that felt very power exchange-y, and he made me feel so comfortable & sexy. I could see myself letting go with him, but letting go and submitting are different. Did I want to submit to him?

“Only one way to find out,” I told myself. My mind felt made up to try things with him. I knew he’d feel ecstatic about it, though something also nagged in the back of my mind that I shouldn’t rush into it. After all, I had time, and I am occasionally capable of being patient.

A couple nights later, I was getting ready to leave for a night at his place, and my period started. He, unfortunately, was not keen on the idea of period sex, and I think that’s when I started to realize that maybe he wasn’t someone worth exploring with. If someone can’t handle sex with me on my period, why allow them access to the parts of me left unexplored, whether physically or emotionally? I felt the wall growing larger as soon as he vocalized it, and I was left wondering just how much I could really trust him. 

Even still, as that wall grew in the following weeks, we’d talk about all the things we wanted to explore together. I found myself keeping some things to myself, particularly desires & curiosities that are new to me. While I’m typically not a patient person, I realized that if I want to explore my desires, I want to do them with someone who is special. (It turns out that I was right to proceed with caution with him, as that was the last time we’ve seen each other. In retrospect, I think I was experiencing limerence rather than any sort of sane emotion.)

Not every desire is new, though. Some of my dormant kinks have started resurfacing too, such as my exhibitionist streak. 

As I walked through a park in the middle of city center on a cold, windy day, holding hands with a guy I’d just met a few hours earlier, my brain was racing with slutty exhibitionist fantasies. Had the weather been warmer with fewer gusts of wind, I imagined myself wearing a dress and letting this man, barely more than a stranger, finger fuck me on a park bench as we made out… finding an alley way after the sun set and letting him fuck me in public in the shadows of the night. 

My fantasies didn’t stop there, though. I imagined feeding him chocolate syrup from my tits while riding his cock. I imagined attending a sex party he’d actually just invited me to, letting him and countless others fill my pussy & mouth until I couldn’t take it anymore. I imagined bringing him home to share with my wife, her & I taking turns with his cock and he & I dominating her & her holes. I imagined being spit-roasted by him and another man. I imagined finally having the bisexual mmf threesome of my dreams. My fantasies were running just as wild as they were during the time when I was not on hormones. 

As those months rolled by, I knew that there was more about myself to discover. Even now, I am still seeing changes in myself coming to the surface. I’ve seen myself letting go of so much of the control that I once held so tightly. I’ve seen some of my jealous tendencies slip away into the void. I’ve seen my desires switch from a top leaning dominant to a far more flexible, or vers, role. I’ve felt curiosity taking over as I slid a tentacle dildo into my ass one day, fucking my own hole that I’d once declared as strictly off-limits. I felt pleasure from things that were new to me. I felt excitement for trying even more new things. I felt excitement to revisit old kinks that I haven’t gotten to indulge in over the past several years. 

So where I am now? Well, to start, I feel like my relationship with my wife is more stable than ever. I’m challenging myself to open up to more experiences I’ve never tried, though I do want to make sure that I’m doing them with people that I trust. I’ve gone on dates with 4 other people and slept with 2 of them. The sex is fun, though I haven’t found a similar chemistry or connection that I shared with the first person I was seeing, nor have I built enough trust with anyone, to start experimenting together. 

I’ve realized that so much has changed for me in a short period of time, all thanks to hormones. Sure, I knew that hormones change people. I’m married to a trans woman who has cycled her progesterone and tried different forms of estrogen, with & without success. I’ve seen her go from baby-crazy to cock crazed to damn close to asexual. I’ve seen what hormones can do to a person, but it was different to experience the changes for myself rather than seeing them in someone else. 

My mentality, libido and fantasies all changed, but so has my body. Orgasms are starting to feel harder to achieve, even after taking breaks from using sex toys for a while. Though orgasms aren’t coming as easily to me, I’m squirting easier than ever before and with a frequency that has me shook. 

With all the changes I’ve experienced, I’ve decided to make a promise to myself to never fuck with my hormones without consulting a doctor first. Despite the rocky road of going off hormones then back on them, I’m glad that I spent time getting to know myself better. I’m happy that I’ve given myself the space to open up to more, and I’m excited to explore my sexual and kinky sides even more as time goes on! 

I originally wrote this mid-September as I started processing everything that I’ve experienced over the past year. Writing this felt cathartic and therapeutic for me, and I’m grateful to those who have read this. Thank you for giving me the space to share more about my personal life. Some of my fans have expressed the desire to have more looks into my life, and as an introvert, it’s sometimes really hard for me to share. Please be gentle & respectful if you approach me online about this!

For the record: I don’t recommend anyone go on or off hormones without consulting a doctor.