Today, I want to tell you about my consultation with Camille. She’s 25, bright, kind, and just passed the bar exam—a future lawyer. She initially came in for knee pain, but our conversation took a completely different turn.

Since she was the right age, I brought up cervical screening and enthusiastically explained the process. But when I mentioned that the test detects HPV, she hesitated before asking, “If I’ve never had sex, can I still have HPV?” That’s when I realized—I had assumed she was sexually active when, in fact, she wasn’t.

Then, she burst into tears. She confided that she wanted to have sex, felt desire, but couldn’t take the leap. The longer she waited, the harder it seemed. She didn’t know her own body well, had never used tampons, and wasn’t comfortable with masturbation. I suspected vaginismus, though she had no history of trauma that she could recall.

Sensing she was open to guidance, I showed her my 3D-printed vulva model and explained the basics of anatomy and pleasure. I recommended books and Instagram accounts about female sexuality, and she eagerly took notes—she’s very academic, after all. But she also carried deep shame, feeling like she was falling behind compared to her friends.

I reassured her that there’s no “right” timeline, that her story is her own, and that she has the power to move forward at her own pace, with kindness toward herself. Before she left, she thanked me sincerely, and I could feel her gratitude.

It was probably the most meaningful consultation of my week. Her name is Camille, and I hope she sees herself the way I see her—full of promise, just as she is.

And you—how do you see Camille?

Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.