The Sex That Soothed My Migraine

How a good partner (or solo pleasure) might just be the best medicine

Image by Nadezhda Riabowa from Pixabay

“I think I’m getting another migraine,” I told my partner last week.

I groaned in annoyance and turned back to the TV screen to confirm my suspicion. Sure enough, little shimmering orbs of light danced among blurry dark spots. The blobby shapes moved slowly in undulating waves, disrupting my view of a hilarious episode of What We Do in the Shadows.

My migraines have always announced themselves with an episode of visual impairment known as aura.

The aura starts for no reason I can discern, goes away after a half hour, and leaves behind a headache that lasts anywhere from a few hours to a day. The actual headache pain isn’t terribly severe, but it is disruptive. And no amount of Tylenol or ibuprofen touches it. So I just muster through with little relief until it’s gone, chugging water and caffeine in an attempt to soothe.

While the aura thing isn’t painful, it’s certainly no fun to watch. It makes me feel woozy and distorted, so I prefer to lie down in a dark room and cover my eyes with a blanket or pillow until it passes.

I’ll often put on a podcast or audiobook to wait it out. But this time, unbeknownst to me, I’d be trying something a little different.

It was late on a Friday night and the kids were asleep. This was our time together, to decompress from parenting and just enjoy each other. We were both looking forward to a few shows on the couch before moving to the bedroom and devouring each other, per our usual weekend bedtime routine.

But I feared that our simple yet sexy plans would be ruined. No way I’d be up for it with a migraine bringing me down.

“Want to come and lie down with me?” I asked my partner.

“Of course,” he said, smiling.

I took his hand and we made our way to the bed. He always wants to cuddle me and touch me and show affection in any way he can, and I love it. I grinned as I pulled the edge of the sheet over the top of my head so that it covered only my eyes. My nose, lips, and everything from the neck down remained uncovered.

I welcomed the sensation of his fingertips as they began moving gently up and down my skin. His hands and fingers traveled along my neck, arms, belly, and legs, touching and massaging me with varying amounts of pressure.

My breathing quickened, and I found I wanted to be touched in other places. I reached out for his face, and he easily read my cue to kiss me.

Seems the migraine didn’t scare off my libido. In fact, the feeling of his tongue mingling with mine as his hands traversed my body was a terrific distraction. And I wanted more.

The data on sex and headaches

I’ll share what my partner and I did sexually and how it helped my migraine that night. But first, a cautionary note.

I can see someone reading my anecdotal experience and using it to convince or even pressure their partner to try sex to soothe a headache. “It worked for this one online sex writer, right? Why not give it a go, babe?”

You’ll want to take a pause and remember that everybody is different, and that includes migraine symptoms and severity. What felt amazing for me may not help everyone. Some people are so incapacitated by migraine pain that sex might feel like torture.

On the flip side, research shows that I’m not the only one who has felt relief from a migraine thanks to a little sexual healing.

The International Headache Society published a study with supporting evidence. Out of 380 people, 60% said their migraine symptoms improved during sex, with 70% of those reporting complete relief.

Unfortunately, it’s not a cure for everyone. It’s even possible for things to go the other way. That same study found that 33% felt their migraine worsen during sex.

So, if you and your partner want to try reaching orgasm to ease or even just distract from a migraine or headache, go slow and share the understanding that if things need to stop at any time, that’s perfectly alright.

It has to be a no-pressure situation.

Another tip: Try a satin or silk blindfold. It’s cooling and feels a lot more comfortable. That’s exactly what I asked my partner to do once he started getting me going with all his gentle kissing and caressing.

I’m not even into blindfolds

I didn’t think I was into being blindfolded during sex.

I’m a sucker for being tied and gagged, sure. I love to be controlled and dominated. I even like a bit of pain — though a firm spanking or hair-pulling goes a long way for this submissive gal.

But when it comes to wearing a blindfold between the sheets, I’ve felt no desire for it. I’m so visually attracted to my partner that seeing everything he does is a huge turn-on.

I love looking into his eyes as he thrusts into me. I love watching the curve of his lips as he travels them down my body and parks them between my thighs.

I love watching my fingers thread through his hair as he licks my clit and buries his tongue inside of me. I love seeing him look up and make eye contact with me while his mouth and tongue are busy at work.

I enjoy him so much aesthetically: his naked body, his piercings, his hair, his bare shoulders, his face. I enjoy opening my eyes while we kiss and staring at his jawline and neck. He’s a treat to drink in while we make love, so why would I want to cover that up?

But on this night, being blindfolded was the only way I felt comfortable with a migraine, and so it gave me the excuse to explore something totally new with my long-term partner of two years.

And I must say — hot damn.

It enhanced everything (and I mean EVERYTHING)