I'll tell you what it doesn't feel like. It doesn't feel like freedom, or joy, or some life-changing transformation. That's not how it works when you're a 65-year-old bloke who's been dealing with this quietly for years.
It feels like relief. Like the knot in your stomach loosens a bit. Like you stop checking for the nearest bathroom when you walk into a building. Like you can sit through your grandson's football game without worrying.
It feels like you're not hiding something anymore.
I'm not writing this to sell anyone anything. I'm writing this because I spent three years thinking I was stuck — that this was just what life looked like now. And it wasn't. The problem was fixable. I just didn't have the right tool.
If you're where I was — doing your Kegels, wearing your pads, telling yourself it could be worse — I'd just say this: it doesn't have to stay where it is. You can actually get stronger. It just takes the right approach.
That's all it was for me. Ten minutes a day, sitting in my chair, squeezing a piece of equipment that finally did what a year of Kegels couldn't.
I wish I'd found it sooner.