When I first entered the world of men's sexual health, I thought I would be entering a very clinical field. I thought I'd be discussing diagnoses, treatment pathways and the mechanics of erections. But very quickly, I realised I'd stepped into something far more human and far more personal. What I realised was that behind every experience of ED, post-surgery dysfunction, or loss of orgasm was a story about identity, fear, vulnerability and the pressure so many men feel to be "fine," no matter what their body is trying to tell them.
It changed the way I see men and, ultimately, the way I understand masculinity.
What I have learnt is that sexual dysfunction has a strange way of showing how narrow our expectations of masculinity have become. For example, there seems to be this long-standing script that tells men their worth lies in their performance and in their ability to "man up". So when something shifts sexually, whether through illness, ageing, trauma, medication or simple human change, the outcome is rarely just physical. It challenges a person's identity, relationship and their sense of self.
I learnt over the years that when you sit with men who are recovering from prostate cancer, living with diabetes or cardiovascular disease, or navigating long-term ED, you see a different truth. Masculinity isn't about performance at all; in fact, it can be about resilience, communication, adaptability and connection. The men who allow themselves to feel, learn, adjust and talk are the ones who heal the deepest, and often become more connected to themselves and their partners than they were before.
Some of the most powerful moments I've witnessed in this work have been men saying, "I need help." There is something extraordinary about that sentence and the shift that happens when saying it out loud. I've seen relationships strengthen, intimacy rebuilt, and confidence return the moment a man stops trying to hide, fix, or force and instead lets himself be human.
One of the biggest lessons this field has taught me is that sexual recovery isn't just physical. It is also emotional, relational and psychological. Most importantly, recovery happens when men shift from pressure to pleasure, from performing to exploring, from "What should my body do?" to "What can my body feel and what's my new normal?" When performance stops being the goal, everything else opens up, and the pressure is removed
That belief is ultimately what led me to develop Medivibe, a device created for men who need pleasure without pressure. Something that works even when erections are unreliable or absent. A tool that supports confidence, sensation and connection, rather than pushing performance as the measure of sexual success. Because when men have accessible, shame-free options, they have the chance to reconnect with themselves in a way that feels empowering rather than defeating.
My work in men's sexual health hasn't made me question masculinity. It has made me respect it more. It's taught me that masculinity is not defined by what the body can or can't do, but by how a man moves through the moments when life requires him to face what society deems 'weak' or 'broken'. When men are given the right tools, support and space to embrace this newer, fuller version of themselves, sexual recovery stops being a source of pressure. It becomes something far more meaningful: a path back to possibility.