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So how bout I reintroduce myself to you the way you know
me. It’ll save you the time of going on Facebook or sending my photo to friends
and asking if we went to high school together or if I worked at the Ha-Ha Hut
with you in college. I didn’t.
I’m your vajajay, vagenius, lady garden, hootie-hoo, special
place, thingy, V.G., tingler, love patch, love triangle, pee-pee place, it,
private parts and koochey. Yeah, hi! I
thought you might recognize me. I’m sure you’ve also called me some other names
over time, but I’ve blocked it out and tried to forget.
You’ve done a lot of things to me over time and I’ve turned
a blind eye. Spinning class being the
first offense. Honestly. How would you feel if I smashed your face into a bike
seat for 45-minutes and made you listen to Beyoncé? You’d probably be a little
pissed off. And don’t even get me started on that pole dancing class you took
me to. Do you hate me?
I’m your vagina. Not a panda.
But I have to draw the line at all the nicknames. I don’t go
around calling you Mary when your name is actually Stacey. Yet you have called me every name in the book
except my own and I can’t quite figure out why.
I would understand if it were men who were calling me by the
wrong name. I mean, don’t you think I get it? My name is sort of clinical.
Vagina sounds very medical in a textbook sort of way. Sometimes when it comes to female’s anatomy,
men aren’t comfortable and they want to call it something cute and cuddly
making me the Snuggy of private parts.
But it’s not men who have given me all these cute and cuddly
monikers. It you. It’s women. You’re the ones giving me all these clever
nicknames when all I really want to do is to be called by my given name: vagina, as clinical and medical as that may sound.
Because here’s the thing, there is nothing about me that is cuddly
and cute. I’m your vagina for God’s sake, not a panda. I am powerful,
dangerous, wise, hungry, seductive, intelligent, tempting, eager, kind and
caring. But I am not cute in a vajajay, V.G. kind of way. I’m your vagina, plain,
powerful and simple as that.
So from now on let’s make a deal. You call me by my name and I’ll call you by
yours. And the next time you’re talking to a friend or teaching your daughter
about her body, and you refer to me as a koochy or thingy, stop and ask yourself
why you’re afraid to have me be as direct and powerful as my name is.
Because I am direct and powerful. Maybe it’s
time you get used to it.