Sorry trying. That sounds hard 
I think I have to rewind a bit and look back to when I was in a place when I didn't want sex with men. So much of what we are told is normal in sexual relationships is really fucked up and actually unacceptable. I thought I was either gay or asexual for a while actually because I just didn't understand why I didn't have desire for sex when everyone/thing around me seemed to be telling me that I should be gagging for it.
Apologies this will be a bit rambly and possibly TMI.
I was too young when I started attempting sex for the first time. For me - I was a late developer but nobody ever told me that it was okay or normal to be a late developer. I was distressed aged 16 because I thought I had missed the window of opportunity for a non-sexual relationship. I really believed that "everybody was doing it" and that there was no boy my age who would have been happy with holding hands and cuddling.
So as a result I started my first relationship, very drunk, aged 16.5, by taking my top off and inviting a boy I'd never met before to kiss me. He did, of course, because patriarchy had never taught him not to take advantage of drunk desperate crying girls. I learned: Behave sexually and boys will like you. Well, nothing else I'd ever attempted had worked so that must be it. I had nothing in common with him but we dated for six months during which time I fretted that he was leaving for university in the autumn and I didn't know what I'd do without him. Again, nobody ever mentioned to me that this was a weird basis for a relationship or expressed any kind of concern. Because of the way we had met and because I was anxious that everyone was much more experienced than me we (mutually, apparently) decided there was no point going backwards and basically started attempting sex immediately. This was entirely unsuccessful and led to a horrible dynamic where whenever we were alone together he would keep trying and I wouldn't know how to say stop or let's just give this a rest and go back to kissing because at least that part was fun, and didn't hurt.
Next boyfriend was better. I eventually managed penetrative sex aged 18 having believed for all the preceding time that there was something wrong with me. I sought advice on the internet and was told to try using vaginal dilators. This is still handed out as advice on message boards, BTW, which completely horrifies me. Again nobody suggested to me that maybe I just wasn't ready and I thought 18 was such an outlandishly old age to be virginal that the thought didn't cross my mind. Not helped by the "hilarious" film "The 40 year old virgin" which had just come out. Because it's so sad and pathetic and funny when people don't have sex. Right? I mean, um, again. I look back and am just really horrified that I didn't know that it was okay to not have sex. I thought it was just something you had to get used to, because men always like it, and then at some point if you were lucky you'd like it, but it doesn't really matter if you don't as long as it doesn't hurt, except the first time, then it's meant to. WTF? But also, I mean, isn't this exactly what society tells us about sex? It sounds horrifying when it's written down like that but the signs are there. Jokes about "DH will think it's Christmas!" or faking headaches or whatever else it is, uniform restrictions on girls because those teenage boys and their pesky hormones, the idea that men are completely helpless when around an attractive woman - it's really insidious.
My next boyfriend I never once slept with sober (apparently I'd already decided sex was better when I wasn't totally present), but he was the first one to ask me if I was okay because I was just lying there and didn't really seem to be enjoying it. This was my eighth sexual partner (counting anything rather than just PIV) at this point and yet it was the first time anybody had enquired about my participation or outright stated that I could stop if I wasn't into it and I remember feeling genuinely shocked. I don't think all of the other seven were awful - and certainly in at least a couple of the encounters I'd been enthusiastic enough not to raise any kind of alarm in any case, but still, the first time.
Next boyfriend was emotionally, verbally and sexually abusive/controlling so, again, not great. I won't really go into detail but suffice to say I would have been totally happy never to have sex ever ever again. A lot of the time during the 3-year relationship I felt like I was broken, crazy or again, asexual. The sexual issues in fact were never particularly overtly awful - there was no actual assault - but were probably the absolute worst part of that relationship because of the way I felt so slowly destroyed by it and beholden to it.
And yet, I did have sex again. I have had two sexual partners since that relationship (that relationship ended thanks to mumsnet and complete reworking of all my relationship views), one a sort of FWB scenario which was enormously healing just to basically have sex on my terms for once because I wanted it and because it was hot, to be frank. It was a bit of a surprise.
It was weird though because despite that when I got together with DH I was still very nervous. In fact, the first six months or so of our relationship was another massive healing process for me. First of all I'd been processing all of this weird sex stuff and trying to work out how I felt and I'd mentioned to him about how I had felt sad about skipping the hand holding and kissing stage and he said of course we can just do that, that would be nice. And we did. I felt like I got to go back and start again on my terms instead of rushing around trying to catch up. Then before we'd had sex he confided in me that he was feeling nervous about sex and thought he might not be ready until at least a year later. I'd been worried that he might be off if I wasn't feeling up to it by about two months. It just totally took the pressure off and it happened very naturally. Then for several months I would just stop in the middle of sex for no reason at all just to check that I could and he never ever once complained or displayed any kind of annoyance or upset. When I once questioned him about this he was confused and asked why he would be upset.
Anyway the point of this whole novel was basically to say that I have experienced a massive difference between sex which involved men taking advantage of patriarchy and rape culture and just taking it for granted that those things are there and either not noticing that they are harmful, or just not caring because it benefits them anyway, and sex where I really feel I am in control of whether or not I participate and that happens on my terms. I don't want anybody to have the first kind ever (and I am very conscious of it if I ever respond to a thread asking advice about sex and I get very annoyed when people seem unaware of the existence of those problems) but the second kind is very different.
I am not a sex-positive feminist and I find sex-positivism as a movement to be extremely alarming because it has a dangerous measure of assuming that all sex is the second kind when, actually, I think that a large proportion of it is not. (I have changed my estimation on the ratio though.) That doesn't mean I am anti sex but I am just really cautious about the way I talk about sex in that I feel it's massively irresponsible to assume everyone is having type 2 sex because when you're in a type 1 situation and you're reading stuff which assumes everything is great and "enthusiastic participation-y" rather than "minimal level of consent-y" it isn't appropriate to the situation. It's exactly like giving women in abusive relationships advice to see a relationship counsellor - it is likely to exacerbate rather than reduce the problems.
I forgot that caution in my earlier post and I apologise.