Wednesday, February 4, 2009

You Can Talk About Your Foot, But What About Your Vagina?

Vagina, cunt, pussy, snatch, v jay jay, the unmentionable part…you know your whoo hooo.  That dark place of mystery that is at once desired while at the same time criticized, disciplined, shaved, tweaked, plucked, massaged, licked, kissed, adorned and ignored.  Can you even think of a body part more complex than 6 inches below your navel, residing right between your legs?

While not all women have vaginas for those of us that do, how we negotiate the ways in which society views our bodies directly informs how we feel about our genitalia.  While feminism has worked very hard to ensure that women are not reduced to our girly bits, quite often this forestalls open conversation about our vaginas.  

The vagina and anything emanating from it are often seen as foul.  There is a direct relation to the social status of women and the ways in which our genitalia is understood.  Vagina is the word we whisper, to ashamed to even mention the word in polite company.

Every time I bring this topic up someone is quick to arrive to tell me why talking about my vagina is inappropriate.  Most recently I was told “oh that is so vagina monologue can we just move on”.  I could not help but wonder why I should move on when I am going to have a vagina until my dying day.  Why should I only talk about it when it is the cool or the in thing to do?  

To the men that want to fuck me, my vagina is more than a wet hole for your pleasure.  Yeah its hot and slick but its not about you, its about me; what I want and my needs.  If she decides to be a dirty girl you can be sure that the brain behind her made the conscious decision to allow such activity.

When I think of all the wonderful things that my vagina can do, from allowing me to experience mind blowing orgasms to functioning as the canal that allowed the birth of my beautiful children, I am inspired by her power.  It makes me want to say to hell with the discomfort of others and scream her name from the mountaintops.  There is power between my legs and the best part of it is, that it is reinforced by my ability to think critically and make conscious decisions.

Many would like to judge us by the actions of our vaginas, giving birth is deemed a proper function, withholding sex unless given permission elevates the value of your snatch through obedience; however, the vagina need not be redeemed by action, its simple existence as part of the human anatomy qualifies it is as good.  We don’t feel shame about our thumbs, our knees or our eyes; we reject the vagina in part because of its extraordinary capabilities.  Patriarchy fears my cunt, because the minute I stop believing the bullshit lies they have told about it from my birth, I free myself from the belief that the feminine is somehow less than.

My cunt talk is not about being edgy, or avante garde, it is about me expressing a love for my body.  When cisgendered men worship at the throne of the phallus, endowing it with the power to define essential aspects of masculinity, we do not deem this less than because we have already accepted the overvaluation of the penis. Why should women not view our genitalia with the same regard?  If we view the penis as powerful we can view the vagina the same way.  Indeed we are more than our girly bits but that does not mean that we should not respect the power and the beauty of the pussy.


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