REAL-LIFE STories
Stories from the trenches: this is what it’s like for FLINTA*s trying to access sexual healthcare and resources in Germany.
C., queer cis woman from germany
Schon seit ich ein Teenager war, habe ich unter starken Blutungen und Regelschmerzen gelitten. Ich habe selbst schon bald vermutet, dass eine Krankheit wie Endometriose dahinterstecken könnte, doch es dauerte noch ca. zehn Jahre, bis ich die Diagnose Adenomyose von einer Ärztin erhielt.
Ein Grund, warum Anzeichen dafür so lange übersehen wurden, ist wohl, dass Gynäkologinnen keinen transvaginalen Ultraschall bei mir durchführen wollten, weil ich nicht sexuell aktiv war. Nur eine:r von drei Ärzt:innen sprach das Thema überhaupt an - aber auch dann nur, um zu sagen, dass wir das in dem Fall „natürlich“ nicht machen müssten. Ich habe nicht weiter nachgefragt, weil ich zu dem Zeitpunkt nicht wusste, dass diese Untersuchung ein sehr wertvolles Diagnosetool darstellt, und weil es so klang, als wäre sie extrem schmerzhaft, wenn man vorher noch keinen vaginalen Geschlechtsverkehr hatte. Erst eine tolle (private) Gynäkologin hat mir Jahre später den Nutzen des Ultraschalls erklärt und mich offen gefragt, ob ich mich damit wohlfühlen würde. Sie hat mich auch ermutigt, dass ich jederzeit meine Meinung ändern und abbrechen kann. Unter diesen Voraussetzungen war ich damit einverstanden, und es war überhaupt keine schlimme oder schmerzhafte Prozedur. Tatsächlich habe ich vor Erleichterung fast geweint, da ich so froh war, endlich eine Erklärung für meine Beschwerden gefunden zu haben.
Durch Zufall habe ich dann herausgefunden, dass meine Erfahrungen gar nicht so ungewöhnlich sind. Es kommt scheinbar vor, dass sich Ärzt:innen sogar explizit weigern diese Untersuchung bei „Jungfrauen“ durchzuführen, mit der Begründung, dass es zu schmerzhaft oder schlicht unangemessen sei. Hinzu kommt die teilweise ungläubige Reaktion von Ärzt:innen auf die Aussage, dass man mit Mitte 20 (noch) nicht sexuell aktiv ist.
In Kombination mit den anderen Geschichten hier zeigt es, welche engen Erwartungen an Frauen bezüglich Sex gestellt werden. Für zu viel Sex sollte man sich schämen, aber gar kein Sex ist auch komisch. Die Tatsache, dass das sexuelle Verhalten so eine große Auswirkung auf die medizinische Versorgung hat, finde ich schockierend.
N., non-binary, 4 years in Berlin
"I’ve only been tested twice before (once in Berlin), and both visits were because of showing symptoms of a possible STI. Of course, twice is not the number of times I’ve asked to be tested for STIs. Every time I went in with no symptoms but with concerns about my (sexual) health, they’d tell me I wasn’t in a high-risk group and there was nothing for me to worry about. They’d ask me questions about my sex life: if I was partnered, how many sexual partners I'd had recently, and if any of those sexual encounters were “risky”. After I’d tell them that none of my sexual partners were cis men, all of that information immediately became unimportant. There was never an explanation, besides not being in a high-risk group, or any advice on how to protect myself and/or my partners. It was just plain denial of the reality of my sex life from then on.
After a series of visits to different gynaecologists where I faced the same outcome, I felt more and more discourage to get tested at all or to look for alternatives. Even today, I don’t really know of any place in Berlin where I’m certain that I can get tested and not be doubted or infantilised for my sexual preferences."
S., non-binary female
I moved to Berlin without having secured any kind of Arbeits- or Aufenthaltserlaubnis, and spent a period of time on a Fiktionsbescheinigung. I was working 'schwarz' and terrified of being deported or having future Aufenthalt rejected/revoked. During this first year in Berlin, I was also casually dating, averaging 1 new sexual partner per month. Someone told me that I could go to the Zentrum für sexuelle Gesundheit und Familienplanung to obtain free birth control, which I did. I still do not know whether or not I could have also obtained free STI testing, because during the financial assessment I was told that my existence in Berlin was 'impossible' and although I was approved for free birth control, it was an intimidating experience and I never returned.
For the most part I was practicing relatively safe sex and was not too concerned until I was raped by a cis male and did not know whether or not a condom was used. I was very desperate to get tested following this incident and because I was unaware of any other options, I waited until I had the opportunity to return to my home country about a month later to get tested there. I wish very much that I had been able to access non-judgmental sexual health services, with no questions asked, free of charge.
Having such a service may have also helped me to more quickly process the experience as one of rape, as it took me a long time to understand what happened and be able to name it as such.
queer American cis woman in Berlin
I started doing annual STI tests when I was 18; my OBGYN (gynecologist) in the States encouraged me to do one every time I visited her. Then I moved to Germany and things got harder. In 16 years, I’ve gone through 11 OBGYNs in Berlin and virtually stopped getting STI tests. When I asked my doctors for STI tests, they told me I could only get tested if I was showing symptoms. When they asked me why I wanted a test, I would either say “to be a responsible citizen” or “because I have sex with lots of people, who also have sex with lots of people,” depending on what was going on in my life at the moment.
Several times, I was made to feel very ashamed when I spoke honestly about my sex life – or life in general, for that matter. Twice, I was told explicitly that I should only be having sex with one partner.
Several times, I was told that I should find a man to settle down with.
Once, I was told that the doctor didn’t feel comfortable treating someone who might end up raising children in a lesbian household.
Once, when I tested positive for HPV and called my OBGYN for more information because I couldn’t read the handwritten letter she had sent me, I was told by her receptionist that she wouldn’t make an appointment for me and that if I wanted to lead a healthy life, I should stop having so much sex.
Finally, in 2019, a friend told me about a practice devoted to sexual health where I could get tested – and not just if I was a gay man. Yay! I started doing regular testing there (though I’ve heard they might have to stop offering that soon due to issues with the Krankenkasse). This had a profound impact on my life – for the first time since moving to Germany 17 years earlier, I felt I could be honest with my doctor. I heard from a lot of my female and nonbinary friends that they had a similar experience.
But since so many people were having good experiences, it became increasingly hard to get an appointment at this practice. Recently, I co-hosted a sex party for women, trans, intersex, and nonbinary people.
When I tried to make a test appointment, I was told I’d have to wait six weeks. Others planning to attend the party were writing me to ask for tips on where they could get tested – some of their doctors had turned them away.
I looked online for walk-in centers and found Fixpoint.
When I called, they told me I didn’t belong to the risk group and thus couldn’t be tested. A friend told me I could go to the Gesundheitsamt, but that I would have to plan to spend the day there and deal with the authorities. The website alone intimidated me. A lot of my male friends go to Checkpoint, so I looked on their website as well, but wasn’t really sure if I was included – I am a cis woman who has sex with MSM, but I hadn’t in several months. I was afraid I’d be quizzed on that and that anyway I’d be invading a space that wasn’t meant for me. The site also said I’d have to go through a screener phone interview first; by the time I’d don’t the phone interview, scheduled an appointment, and gotten results, the party would have happened already. In the end, a female friend also attending the party told me you can just walk in to Checkpoint – they won’t turn you away. I did that, had an amazing experience, and was able to get tested.
But not everyone who attended the party was able to. We had a great time, but I did feel afterwards that we had been a bit irresponsible – an impressive number of fingers, toys, lips, penises, and tongues moved from one mucous membrane to the next, not necessarily always being strict about gloves, washing, or condoms. I’ve been in many situations like this over the years – in private households, in darkrooms, with strangers, with friends.
It seems totally crazy to me that the most sex-positive city in the world, where everyone seems to be fucking each other, STI testing would be so hard for women and gender-nonconforming people.
I am a 43 year old cis queer American woman living in Berlin since 2009. When I lived in New York I had no health insurance, but was able to have regular STD testing on a sliding scale basis at Planned Parenthood. This gave me a lot of security in my sexual health and a sense of ownership over my body. Since I’ve been living in Berlin, I have not been able to find an easy and accessible place to be tested for STDs regularly, even though now I have health insurance. This is particularly frightening for me as my partner and I are opening our previously monogamous relationship, and one of the things that I think would be responsible and comforting is to test on a monthly basis. I have no idea where to do this in Berlin or how I can be proactive and protecting myself and my partners."-J.H.
queer American woman in Berlin
anonymous, queer non-binary person from Berlin
Als ich einmal brennende Unterleibsschmerzen hatte, wollte ich mich bei einem Gynäkologen auf STIs testen lassen. Am Telefon kam dann von unterschiedlichen Praxen die Antwort, dass ich dafür entweder bezahlen müsste oder ich ins Krankenhaus gehen sollte. Nur eine Praxis hat mich auf das Gesundheitsamt verwiesen. Dort hätte ich dann eine Woche auf das Ergebnis warten müssen.