Laying on the couch in a Harley Street clinic, my feet up in stirrups, I watched as the doctor positioned a syringe full of my own blood cells against the most intimate area of my body. 

I braced myself for the needle prick and the nurse at my side squeezed my hand.

"Don’t worry," she whispered. "This is going to change your life."

You might think what I was doing sounds extreme. But let me explain the journey that
had taken me here.

•  Sexual to sex-starved

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt very confident in my own sexuality. I’m curvy – I’ve got boobs, I’ve got a bum – and I was used to getting attention from men. That always made me feel empowered. 

 I enjoyed not only the effect I had on men but what came back to me in return. I enjoyed an amazing sexual connection with my first partners and found it easy to reach orgasm. 

Then I met Tim* and fell in love at first sight. Instantly I felt he liked me for my personality, not just my body, and that made me feel good. This was a new stage of my life and I felt ready to settle down and marry. It wasn’t a problem for me that our relationship wasn’t as sexual as I was used to.

As time went on, though, I began feeling more and more rejected. If we had sex, it was always because I initiated it. Usually he pushed me away and if we did do it, it was very monotonous. That was hard for me to understand – I wanted to share my body with my husband as a way of showing how much I loved him. 

Please don’t think I’m sex mad. I craved intimacy as much as intercourse itself, but he was cold: there was little of the kissing or cuddling I longed for. 

I often cried myself to sleep at night, wondering why my husband didn’t desire me. The only way I could cope was to switch off, suppressing any sexual thoughts. If my libido was the cause of all these problems, I needed to disconnect from that part of myself completely. 

Over time I stopped feeling the need to have sex, to even want to be touched. I lost any feeling of physical energy in my genitals and breasts. I thought, "I don’t deserve sex. This is my life and I’m stuck with it." 

Eventually, though, I realised I couldn’t deny my true self forever, and I told Tim our marriage was over. I needed to be me and be free again. But the thought of ever being intimate with another man terrified me: how could I ever have sex again when I felt dead between the legs? 

I began doing some research online, and that’s where I found out about the ‘O Shot’. The more I read about it, the more I thought, "This is exactly what I need: something to restart my engine." 

Though £1,000 was a lot of money, I told myself some women might easily spend that on clothes; why shouldn’t I invest in my vagina instead? It was what was important to me.

• Cutting-edge technique

At the clinic, the procedure was explained to me. Blood would be taken from my arm and a machine would separate out the cells which are richest in growth factors. Then they’d be injected into my clitoris and just inside my vagina. This would force my body to produce new cells, restoring sensation. 

I was left alone to apply a numbing cream, and then I got onto the couch. I won’t lie: the injections hurt. It was my fault because I hadn’t fully lifted the skin around my clitoris when I applied the cream, even though I’d been told to. So I felt it each time the needle went in: one, two, three and then back again. On a scale of one to 10, the pain was a seven. 

I didn’t even feel the injection inside my vagina though, and as a bonus the doctor used the leftover cells to plump up my labia. 

"It loses volume as you get older so it’ll look nicer," he said. I walked out of the clinic with a big smile on my face, wishing I could shout out my secret to the world.

It sounds silly but at first I was actually afraid to find out if it had worked. I was so worried I’d be disappointed! I couldn’t resist taking a look, though. There wasn’t any bruising or pain, but I could see my clitoris looked larger – not freakishly huge, just engorged. It felt firm and springier too, where before it had felt flat.

• A new me 'down below'

After two weeks, I couldn’t wait any longer. And… wow. I was on my own but it felt like having sex with the best lover in the world. The intensity of my orgasm was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. The sensation expanded through my whole body and lasted far, far longer.

That was nothing, though, compared to the first time I had sex again. I had the ‘O Shot’ in June, and I’ve had sex with one man since then. It was an absolute 10 out of 10. I must have come five, six times. 

Of course I didn’t tell him what I’d had done – women don’t tell secrets like that! – but he was obsessed with my body. He told me, "You’ve got the best-looking vavoo I’ve ever seen in my life." I felt like a sexual goddess. 

I’ll need to have a top-up injection at some point as the effect will start to dilute, but for now it’s as good as ever. I will definitely treat myself when I need to, there’s no going back. 

Having the ‘O Shot’ hasn’t just given me back what I had before. The satisfaction I feel now is on a whole new level. But it’s not just about the physical orgasm, beautiful as that is. It’s allowed me to feel good about myself again – happy, confident and reconnected to my own body. I finally feel like a woman again.