If you’ve landed on this page, there’s a good chance you’ve been living with some form of genital or pelvic “pain” — and perhaps quietly wondering whether anyone can actually help. I want you to know, first and foremost: yes, they can. And I’m glad you’re here.

I’m a sex therapist and counsellor in private practice in Adelaide. Working with people experiencing genital, pelvic, and sexual “pain” is one of the most meaningful parts of my work. The way I approach this is grounded in current pain science — particularly the work coming out of the NOI Group (Neuro Orthopaedic Institute), based right here in Adelaide, whose research has genuinely transformed the way we understand and treat persistent “pain” (Moseley & Butler, 2017).

But before we get into the clinical side of things, I want to tell you something personal.

“Pain is not an accurate measure of tissue health. Pain is a protector.” — Professor Lorimer Moseley, NOI Group — tamethebeast.org

A Note From Me, Before We Begin

I don’t work in this space only because of my professional training. I work in it because I’ve lived it.

I have my own experience of pelvic and genital “pain,” and I know from the inside what it feels like to move from fighting, fearing, and being consumed by “pain” — to something genuinely different. Not necessarily “pain”-free, but different. Freer. More like yourself again.

That shift took time, real commitment, and a fundamentally different way of understanding “pain” than anything I had been taught before — by medical science, my own clinical training, by culture, or by my own instincts. It asked me to set aside a lot of what I thought I knew. That was truly hard to let go.

I also want to be clear: my experience is mine. Your situation is your own, with its own history, its own body, its own meaning. What helped me may not be what helps you, and I would never assume otherwise. I can’t promise a particular outcome. What I can tell you is that this work comes from lived experience as well as clinical training — and that when I sit with you in a session, I bring both.

I share this not to make the work about me, but because you deserve to know who is in the room with you.

The Many Faces of Genital and Pelvic Pain

“Pain” in the genital and pelvic region shows up in many different ways, and finding the right language for your experience matters.

• Vaginismus. An involuntary tightening of the pelvic floor muscles that makes penetration painful, difficult, or impossible. Far more common than most people realise — and not a character flaw or failure. It is your nervous system responding in the way it has learned to respond (Engman et al., 2018). If you are searching for support with vaginismus in Adelaide, you are in the right place.
• Vulvodynia. Chronic vulvar “pain” — burning, stinging, rawness, aching — with no single identifiable cause. Many people spend years seeking answers before receiving an accurate diagnosis (Bornstein et al., 2016).
• Dyspareunia. Persistent “pain” during or after sex. It affects people of all genders and can be felt externally, internally, or both.
• Pelvic Pain. Ongoing discomfort in the lower abdomen, hips, perineum, or deep pelvis that often extends well beyond sexual activity into everyday life. Sitting, walking, working: pelvic pain doesn’t confine itself to the bedroom.
• Testicular and Scrotal Pain. Significantly under-discussed in both medical and therapeutic settings. Chronic “pain” in the testes or scrotum — whether following injury, surgery, infection, or with no clearly identified trigger — affects quality of life, sexual confidence, and sense of self in ways that deserve proper attention (Levine, 2016).
• Post-Pelvic and Genital Surgery Pain. Pain” that persists after gynaecological procedures, hernia repair, vasectomy, orchiectomy, penile cancer or gender-affirming surgery often defies simple explanation at the follow-up appointment. Tissues may have healed — but as we now understand from pain neuroscience, the nervous system can remain in a state of heightened protection long after the original event (Moseley & Butler, 2017). Post-surgical pelvic pain is a legitimate, treatable condition that requires many multidisciplinary approaches to help a person get the best outcome. And get on track living life.
• Surgical Mesh Pain. For those navigating the complex, often relentless consequences of vaginal and hernia mesh complications, the “pain” can feel invisible to others and poorly understood by the medical system. You deserve specialised, compassionate support — not to be told the problem is resolved because the surgery is technically complete.

“The amount of pain you experience does not necessarily relate to the amount of tissue damage you have sustained.” — Professor Lorimer Moseley, University of South Australia

Rethinking “Pain”: What Current Pain Science Tells Us

This is the part I find most important to share — and the part that, in my experience, can genuinely shift something for people.

Current pain neuroscience, as articulated by Professor Lorimer Moseley and Dr David Butler of the NOI Group, tells us something that challenges almost everything most of us have been taught: “pain” is an output produced by the brain to protect us, not a simple readout of tissue damage (Moseley & Butler, 2017). The amount of “pain” you experience does not reliably reflect the amount of damage in your body. It reflects the degree to which your nervous system perceives threat.

This isn’t a way of saying “pain” isn’t real. It is absolutely real — it is one of the most real experiences a human being can have. But understanding where it comes from changes everything about how we approach it.

In persistent genital and pelvic “pain,” a process called central sensitisation is very often present. This is where the central nervous system itself becomes sensitised — amplified — so that it responds to ordinary sensations as though they are dangerous, long after any original tissue injury has resolved (Woolf, 2011). The nervous system has learned, through repeated experience, that this region of the body is a place of threat.

Your “pain” is not evidence that your body is irreparably damaged. It is evidence that your nervous system has become highly protective. And nervous systems, with the right conditions and understanding, are capable of change. This capacity — neuroplasticity — is at the heart of modern pain rehabilitation (Moseley & Butler, 2017).

Research shows that pain neuroscience education — simply learning how “pain” works — measurably reduces “pain” intensity, fear, and distress in people with chronic “pain” conditions (Louw et al., 2016). Knowledge, in this case, is genuinely medicine.

“Traumatised people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort.” — Bessel van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score (2014)

When “Pain” Feels All-Consuming — And Why That Makes Complete Sense

There is something I want to name carefully here, because it matters enormously and is so often misunderstood.

When you are in persistent “pain” — especially genital or pelvic “pain,” which touches the most intimate parts of who you are — the mind can become saturated with it. You may find yourself unable to stop thinking about it, bracing before any possible trigger, scanning your body for signals, imagining the worst. Your whole nervous system can orient itself around the “pain” as though nothing else is safe.

This is not weakness. This is not you being dramatic. This is your nervous system doing exactly what it is wired to do when it perceives ongoing threat — holding on tightly, staying vigilant, trying to keep you safe.

Clinically, this kind of intense, consuming focus on “pain” — what researchers sometimes call pain-related distress and threat vigilance — is one of the most significant factors in how “pain” persists and intensifies over time (Sullivan et al., 2001). And it is deeply, meaningfully connected to trauma. Research consistently shows that people with histories of trauma — particularly emotional, physical, or sexual trauma — experience “pain” more intensely and find it harder to shift attention away from it (Sansone & Watts, 2014). Trauma leaves the nervous system in a state of heightened alertness to threat, and that heightened state directly amplifies the “pain” experience (Hayne et al., 2024).

This is not a character flaw. It is not you being irrational or difficult. It is the entirely predictable consequence of a nervous system that has learned, often through very good reason, that the world — and sometimes the body itself — is not entirely safe.

What it means for our work together is that “pain” and trauma cannot always be neatly separated. For many people, addressing one means gently, carefully attending to the other. We move at your pace, and nothing is pushed.

“Once you start approaching your body with curiosity rather than with fear, everything shifts.” — Bessel van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score (2014)

The Mind-Body Connection Is Not What You Think

When people hear “mind-body connection,” they sometimes assume it means their “pain” is psychological, exaggerated, or not fully real. I want to address that directly: that is not what it means.

What it means is that the brain, nervous system, immune system, and endocrine system are in constant, bidirectional conversation with the body — and that our thoughts, emotions, past experiences, and sense of safety all influence how the nervous system calibrates its response to sensory input (Moseley, 2007). This is biology, not metaphor.

Experiences of trauma, shame, relationship stress, or a history of painful procedures all inform the nervous system’s threat assessment in the pelvis and genitals. The body remembers — not as a psychological weakness, but as a neurological fact (van der Kolk, 2014). This is why medical treatment alone, while necessary and important, often isn’t sufficient for persistent sexual “pain.” It addresses the tissues, but not the nervous system’s learned response to those tissues.

“Pain is an unpleasant conscious experience that emerges from the brain when the sum of all the available information suggests that you need to protect a particular part of your body.” — Professor Lorimer Moseley, NOI Group

Where Sex Therapy for Genital Pain Comes In

I strongly encourage you to continue working with your GP, gynaecologist, pelvic floor physiotherapist, urologist, or pain specialist. Collaborative care consistently produces the best outcomes, and I work actively alongside other clinicians. As a integrative sex therapist in Adelaide, what I offer is the space to address dimensions of “pain” that medical appointments rarely have time or room for.

• Re-educating the nervous system. Drawing on pain neuroscience principles, therapy can shift your understanding of “pain” in ways that directly reduce threat perception (Louw et al., 2016).
• Working with the fear-avoidance cycle. Anticipatory anxiety causes real physiological changes — pelvic floor bracing, heightened nerve sensitivity, autonomic activation — that reproduce the very “pain” being feared (Vlaeyen et al., 2016).
• Processing the emotional and relational weight. Grief, shame, identity disruption, relationship strain — these are not side effects of genital “pain.” They are part of it, and they deserve direct attention.
• Rebuilding safety in the body. Particularly after surgery, mesh complications, or trauma, the body can feel like a source of threat rather than home. Therapy works to restore a felt sense of safety — gradually and at your pace.
• Supporting partners. Sexual “pain” rarely affects only one person. Including partners in the therapeutic process, when appropriate, can restore connection that “pain” has eroded.

What Seeing Me Looks Like

Therapy with me is always talk-based and fully clothed — there is no physical examination of any kind.

Your first session is an assessment. We take the time to understand your history, what you’ve already tried, how “pain” is affecting your daily life and relationships, and what matters most to you. From there, we develop a plan together — informed by pain science and tailored to you specifically.

Sessions are held in my private Adelaide practice. No referral is required. You are welcome to come alone or with a partner, and I will meet you wherever you are in your journey — whether you’ve just started seeking help or have been navigating this for years.

If you’re unsure whether what you’re experiencing is something I can help with, please reach out and ask.

When to See Both a Doctor and a Sex Therapist

In most cases, the best outcomes come from both — ideally at the same time with an integrative multidisciplinary approach. I’d encourage you to get in touch if:

• You’ve completed medical treatment but “pain” persists.
• “Pain” is causing avoidance of intimacy, relationships, or daily activities.
• You’re recovering from pelvic or genital surgery, including surgical mesh complications.
• Anxiety, low mood, or distress around sex and your body is a significant part of your experience.
• You haven’t been able to have penetrative sex and would like that to change.
• Your avoiding intimacy with your partner or self pleasure.
• You simply feel like no one has truly listened to you about this.

Ready to Take the Next Step?

If any of this has resonated — the science, the approach, or the honesty — I’d gently encourage you schedule a session with me. Living with genital or pelvic pain in Adelaide is hard enough without doing it alone.

I can’t promise a particular outcome, and I won’t pretend that what helped me will necessarily help you. What I can offer is a space that is warm, non-judgmental, clinically informed by the best current pain science, and grounded in genuine lived understanding of what it means to be in a body that hurts.

You are not broken. Your nervous system is doing its best to protect you. And with time, the right knowledge, and the right support, your relationship with “pain” — and with your own body — can change.

To book your first session with me [click here].

Suggested Links

• NOI Group (pain science): https://www.noigroup.com
• NOI Group — Pelvic Pain article: https://www.noigroup.com/noijam/pelvic-pain-need-to-know/

Kai is a sex therapist, psychotherapist and counsellor, and the founder of Polysoma — a specialist private practice in Goodwood, Adelaide. Kai holds a Bachelor of Clinical Practice, a Master of Counselling, and a Graduate Certificate in Sexology, and is a Professional Member of the Australian Counselling Association and a member of the Society of Australian Sexologists. Kai’s training spans trauma practice, psychosexual therapy, affirming care and beyond — underpinned by an ongoing and deep commitment to professional development across counselling, sex therapy and sexology. This breadth of training, combined with lived experience, shapes every aspect of the work at Polysoma. In-person sessions in Goodwood, Adelaide and virtual sessions worldwide.

References

Bornstein, J., Goldstein, A. T., Stockdale, C. K., Bergeron, S., Pukall, C., Zolnoun, D., & Coady, D. (2016). 2015 ISSVD, ISSWSH and IPPS consensus terminology and classification of persistent vulvar pain and vulvodynia. Obstetrics & Gynecology, 127(4), 745–751. https://doi.org/10.1097/AOG.0000000000001359

Engman, M., Wijma, K., & Wijma, B. (2018). Long-term coital satisfaction in women treated with cognitive behaviour therapy for superficial coital pain and vaginismus. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, 39(3), 193–202. https://doi.org/10.1080/16506070902859912

Harris, R. (2019). ACT made simple: An easy-to-read primer on acceptance and commitment therapy (2nd ed.). New Harbinger Publications.

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Louw, A., Zimney, K., Puentedura, E. J., & Diener, I. (2016). The efficacy of pain neuroscience education on musculoskeletal pain: A systematic review of the literature. Physiotherapy Theory and Practice, 32(5), 332–355. https://doi.org/10.1080/09593985.2016.1194646

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Moseley, G. L., & Butler, D. S. (2017). Explain pain supercharged. Noigroup Publications.

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Sullivan, M. J. L., Thorn, B., Haythornthwaite, J. A., Keefe, F., Martin, M., Bradley, L. A., & Lefebvre, J. C. (2001). Theoretical perspectives on the relation between catastrophizing and pain. The Clinical Journal of Pain, 17(1), 52–64. https://doi.org/10.1097/00002508-200103000-00008

van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

Vlaeyen, J. W. S., Crombez, G., & Linton, S. J. (2016). The fear-avoidance model of pain. Pain, 157(8), 1588–1589. https://doi.org/10.1097/j.pain.0000000000000574

Vowles, K. E., Witkiewitz, K., Sowden, G., & Ashworth, J. (2014). Acceptance and commitment therapy for chronic pain: Evidence of mediation and clinically significant change following an abbreviated interdisciplinary program of rehabilitation. The Journal of Pain, 15(1), 101–113. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jpain.2013.10.002

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