Stay out of my vagina.

Why is everyone fascinated with my vagina?

Okay, so everyone seems fascinated with vaginas in general, but I have one and I’m taking this personally. I didn’t used to take it personally, mind you. I used to look at these issues as tiny little bits of flickering bullshit that, if a good gust of wind or a flatulent moment came along, would simply blow away into the ether of whatthefuckery. But it isn’t going away, is it? No matter what I do or say, what I do not do or do not say, or how I vote, speak or behave, this shit is not going away. Seriously, it’s enough to spook a girl – hard – and I’m not sure I can take much more without panicking like a wild, frightened horse.

Advertising is fascinated with my vagina, so much so that they will address me as if my vagina is an issue to be reckoned with. However, they will do it with carefully chosen words that never directly speak to the problems they’re trying to convince me I have that they can solve. For example, it’s not feminine protection. I do not need protection from my femininity, I promise. I don’t need protection from my own bodily functions, either. It’s called menstruation, for fucksake, and it happens every month to millions (yay, verily billions) of women around the world.  Considering that advertising is still a male-dominated game, I’m not sure what men think menstruation is, and I take grand offense at hearing I might feel “less than fresh” and having douches and perfumes pushed at my vagina. My vagina is not a medical mystery nor is it some depository of shameful smells or sights. It’s also not a party you’re invited to attend, so leave my vagina alone.

Why is pop culture so obsessed with my vagina? Music tells me what to do with my vagina. So do books and movies. In fact, they can be very bossy indeed, telling me how to use or move my body parts. I already know how to use and move my body parts, I hardly need instructions from anything or anyone pop culture. But just in case it gets old somehow, we have new injections like Fifty Shades of Stupid to make sure that, in case I’m bored with my vagina, I have some more ideas (however re-hashed from Nine and Half Weeks or the Marquis de Sade himself) on what I can do with my vagina. Because surely this is what vagina ownership is all about, being reduced to one’s vagina, and how dare the rest of us not get with the programme.

For instance, why is the government so concerned with what I do with my vagina? It’s my vagina, it has nothing to do with them. It doesn’t even pay taxes.  Do they think I vote with it? Maybe that’s the reason why they pull the curtains so tight on voting booths. They want to regulate what I can and cannot do with my vagina, what I can and cannot put into my vagina, what does and does not come out of my vagina, and how I use and operate my vagina. No one was ever this uptight about my elbows, so you can see why I’d take this so personally, deeming it as a direct attack on my vagina.

History has a love/hate relationship with vaginas. Apparently, if you have one, you can’t vote, hold office or be in charge of anything more than a recipe. Maybe. Vaginas seem to make one handicapped. If you have a vagina, traditionally it might have been difficult to cross the street in the rain without the helpful arm of a man to assist you. Considering that the world has always treated vaginas as currency with the backlash of their own economy, I find this seriously baffling. My vagina is not laughing and neither am I. Why must I be separated from my vagina? Am I reduced to being the sum of my parts? Or just this particular part? Are you afraid of my vagina? Is it magical to you? Do you think it does tricks or something? Rumours aside, my vagina did not go to Hogwarts.

You never see “Vagina makes prank calls to the Vatican” as headlines news, do you? How about “Family of four saved from fiery death trap by brave next-door vagina” or “Vagina wins coveted Nobel Peace Prize”? Ridiculous, right? Not so fast. In a world that reduces me to my vagina, it doesn’t seem so ridiculous to me anymore. The message, loudly and clearly sent in a world rocked by violence against women, is that I have no right to my own body; because I have a vagina I’m less than people who don’t, even though they create entire industries based on said vagina and say things like “Cunt makes the world go round.”

Well, I really hope this cunt made your world spin today; my vagina and I are tired so we’ll be ejecting you now, relaxing with some sweet tea on the sunny patio, and I highly recommend that not only should you stay out my vagina but only take interest in any vagina when you’re so invited.

Now get out.

8 thoughts on “Stay out of my vagina.

  1. And the Republican Party didn't even make one appearance in this post? I am duly impressed with the skills you and your vagina have demonstrated here today.

  2. Of course she showed mucho restraint, and I am so proud. I blasted this as the best frigging article she has ever written all over Facebook, and naturally we do blame every single one of those blasted Repub's for everything that tries to claim ownership over all vagina's everywhere. The rat bastards!

  3. Just wait 'til “Fifty Shades of Stupid: The Movie” arrives. I don't know why people haven't figured out that the movie already exists. It's also known as “really bad porn”.

  4. Question: Why is it, or at least it seems to me, that men view their penis as a separate entity, hence their cutsey names for their appendage? And that they view us, not as separate from the vagina like themselves, but as nothing BUT the vagina? Or is it me and I'm getting confused or muddled?

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