If you’ve given birth — or honestly, just existed anywhere near the internet — you’ve probably been told to “do your Kegels.” They’re pitched as a fix for everything: bladder leaks, better orgasms, postpartum healing, prolapse. Hell, I bet they can even get you a better tax refund! Like a magical little pelvic hack that’ll solve all your problems if you just remember to squeeze during red lights.
But for something that’s touted as the end-all be-all fix to ~women’s issues,~ the whole concept of Kegels is… kind of a mess. (Ironic, considering everything else surrounding women’s healthcare is straightforward, fair, and taken care of, but I digress.)
You see, while we’ve all been told we should do our Kegels since we punched our period cards (or, more realistically, when we downloaded a pregnancy app and realized there’s actual physical activity involved in the whole, having-a-baby thing), no one really explained why. I mean, what did you hear? It preps your body? Strengthens your pelvic floor? Gives you something to feel productive about when you’re sitting on the couch for the 14th hour in a row because morning sickness has taken your will to live? Same.
But according to pelvic floor experts — and a growing chorus of very fed-up postpartum people — Kegels might not actually be the miracle move we’ve been led to believe.
“Kegels are often recommended as a one-size-fits-all solution, but they’re not right for everyone,” says Dr. Amanda Neri, PT, DPT, CPT (imagine being this qualified about anything, right?), a pelvic floor therapist and host of the Pelvic POV podcast, tells Betches. “Many people actually have pelvic floors that are too tight to benefit from Kegels, and doing them can sometimes make symptoms worse.”
And after everything I’ve put the ol’ girl through, the last thing I need is for my vagina to be treated unfairly by me. She’s already getting that enough in society, TYVM. And yet, despite the internet’s obsession with clench culture, most of us have no idea what Kegels actually are — or whether we should even be doing them in the first place.
What Even Are Kegels?
In case you weren’t paying attention during the vagina chapter in your copy of The Care and Keeping of You or What to Expect, a Kegel is just a fancy name for an isolated pelvic floor contraction — aka that subtle little squeeze you do when you’re trying not to pee mid-sneeze. Sort of. It’s like that, but also like if the inside of your vagina was a snake squeezing its victim. Sometimes your left eye twitches when you do it (just me)? You’re probably clenching right now, in fact. If so, go ahead and just relax.
The idea is that these tiny exercises help strengthen the muscles that support your bladder, uterus, and bowels, especially during pregnancy or after giving birth. Like a bicep curl for your innermost bits, bobs, and nubs.
As you might know (or might’ve just realized thanks to the very smart and slightly terrifying snake analogy), Kegels can be done manually — no equipment required — or with the help of things like Kegel trainers, pelvic floor weights, or app-connected gadgets that track how strong your contractions are. Yes, we’ve officially entered the era of gamified vaginas.
And while Kegels can be helpful, they’re often handed out as a one-size-fits-all solution with zero context. “They’re usually recommended because the assumption is the pelvic floor is weak and needs to be strengthened,” says Dr. Neri. “But for a lot of people — especially during pregnancy — that area is actually holding too much tension to begin with.”
What? Your vagina is tense and upset during/after having a baby? Who! Would! Have! Guessed!? Not society, apparently — because they’ve been telling us to simply work out our vaginas more. Shocking, coming from the same people who treated “hysteria” with forced masturbation.
Wait — Kegels Could Be Making Things Worse?
It’s a hard yes. So even though the exercise itself is real, the context matters. Before you jump into a squeeze-a-thon, clenching your snake tunnel with all your might, it’s worth understanding how your pelvic floor is actually functioning. I promise I’ll make this quick and not boring. And the good news? Sometimes what you don’t do makes the biggest difference.
Think of your pelvic floor as a hammock of muscle that stretches across the bottom of your pelvis. It supports your organs (bladder, uterus, bowels), controls pee and poop, and helps with core stability. But unlike your biceps or your glutes, it doesn’t just need to be strong — it needs to be coordinated. Like, “engage when you sneeze, relax when you pee, don’t collapse under pressure when you deadlift a baby car seat” kind of coordinated.
The logic behind telling every vagina-clad person to Kegel any chance they get is this: if something feels weak or “loose” or simply off, you should tighten it. Shorts falling down your legs? Tighten the belt. Significant-other flirting with other people? Shorten the leash (and then dump the cheating bastard, ofc).
But when it comes to your pelvic floor, calling a Kegel the cure-all is like slapping a resistance band on a muscle cramp. It doesn’t? Make? Sense?
That’s because overactive or tight pelvic floors can show up with the same symptoms as a weak one — things like leaking, pressure, and a major urgency to pee. But pain, Dr. Neri says, is usually the red flag. “A tight pelvic floor will likely have more trigger points, pain in the hips, abdomen, or low back, pain with sex, constipation, or difficulty voiding,” she explains.
And doing Kegels on a tight pelvic floor without guidance? Resistance band on a cramp, baby.
The other consideration? Tight pelvic floors are just as common as, well, not-tight ones — especially postpartum. Abdominal separation (aka the dreaded diastasis recti) puts a ton of extra strain on the pelvic floor. So much so that there are literal Reddit threads dedicated to this, with people urging others to stop squeezing without a doctor’s order.
Are Kegels Ever Worth Doing?
Sometimes! “They can be helpful when retraining coordination or isolating certain muscles, especially during diagnostic assessments,” Dr. Neri says. But she adds that they’re “probably overhyped,” not necessarily overprescribed. So, unless a professional has told you that Kegels are the right move for your body, there’s no need to stress about squeezing on cue.
The real takeaway? Your pelvic floor deserves more than a vague one-liner from a YouTube mom. If you’re dealing with pain, pressure, or just a general sense that your insides are not where they should be, it’s time to see a pelvic floor PT.
So… What Should You Be Doing Instead?
Well, first things first: You should stop following random advice on the internet (lol, hi). Ideally, you hit up a pelvic floor therapist. That said, healthcare and insurance in some countries (again, hi) are trash, so that might not exactly be viable. In that case, Dr. Neri’s go-to formula for postpartum rehab isn’t about clenching harder — it’s about building coordination, not just strength.
“Generally, I start patients with breathing exercises, then move into mobility, deep core stabilization, and dynamic strengthening,” she says. “I almost never include Kegels in the beginning.”
Instead, the focus is on working your abdominal, hip, and lower back muscles (the parts of your body that get absolutely wrecked during pregnancy and childbirth). Pilates is a great starting point, especially for gentle core work and mobility.
She also emphasizes that your core and pelvic floor work as a team. “The core helps distribute pressure when you’re sneezing, lifting, or even just carrying a baby around all day,” she explains. “When it’s weak, the pelvic floor ends up compensating, and that can lead to dysfunction or long-term issues like leaking and prolapse.”
Basically? It’s not that your pelvic floor is broken. It’s just tired of doing all the work alone. Same!
So if you’re still peeing when you sneeze and your back always hurts and sex has been lowkey terrible? It might not be weakness; it might be tension. And the last thing your stressed-out vag needs is to be told to work out more. After pregnancy, birth, and all the chaos that follows, you’ve already done enough squeezing, babe. Take the bench.
