Our Privacy/Cookie Policy contains detailed information about the types of cookies & related technology on our site, and some ways to opt out. By using the site, you agree to the uses of cookies and other technology as outlined in our Policy, and to our Terms of Use.


A Letter From Your Vagina

Photograph by Getty Images/StockFood



Hello? Me, down here, your vagina?

Oh wait.

No wonder why you have no idea who I am. You’ve been calling me by the wrong name for so long you probably think my name, vagina, is an alias—like I’m a spy who can birth and pee.

RELATED: In Defense of HooHas and Ding Dongs

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.

RELATED: V Is for Vagina

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.

And please, no more spin class,

Your Vagina

Share this on Facebook?

More from kids