Would you write an ode to your vagina?
10 March 2015, 11:33
The enthusiasm that consumed me when I told my editor I’d be writing about us women and our relationship with our vaginas was inexplicable, to say the least.
This will be a piece of cake!’ I thought. I mean, how hard can writing about my own vagina be?
I see her every day, not so? Plus, Kitty and I play lots of fun games as and when the occasion calls for it.
She is my lifetime companion – one of those things that don’t come in a 'buy one, get one free package'. And as my beloved companion, I try to spend time with her, tend to her needs and ensure that she’s well taken care of regardless of how demanding my career becomes.
I'm there when she’s feeling a tad temperamental and vice versa.
So, based on all this, you’d think writing about how "tight" we are wouldn't be all that difficult, right? Oh, but how quickly my excitement turned into frustration when, two weeks prior to this being complete (somewhat), I was still struggling to come up with something cohesive.
Frantic and struggling to meet the deadline, I ran to my boyfriend; who, second to myself, knows Kitty better than anybody else. But despite all the precious memories he’s created with her, he too was blank.
I was distraught. Of all the subjects I've covered in the past, writer’s block decides to hit now?
In an effort to be "one" with my vagina for the sake of my art, I decided to submit myself to a carnal fasting of sorts.
In my mind, the only reason for my lack of creativity had to do with the abundance in my sexual gratification. And so I refrained from masturbating and intercourse, hoping that this would help me be conscious of Kitty’s identity (in order for me to write about something I had an understanding of, I’d have to establish an actual relationship with Kitty).
Also read: Weird facts about your vagina
This was also my way of punishing "bae" for his obviously shallow alliance with her - he I was hitting below the belt.
My abstinence seemed to work because two days later, while minding my own business in the lavatory, I was struck with an epiphany. I immediately proceeded to have a conversation with my vagina:
"My beloved Kitty", I said. “I realize our relationship isn’t as strong as I thought it was and I know I’m to blame for it. I’ve treated you like a piece of meat these past few years and have taken you for granted. The only reason I’ve always ensured that you’re in the best shape was purely egotistic, and for that I apologize. When I initially decided to start calling you Kitty, it was because I felt you were too majestic to be referred to as a measly pussy, and I felt vagina sounded just as vulgar. But I’ve somehow managed to turn that term of endearment into another way to belittle and objectify you. Kitty, forgive me for this transgression. You are amazing, you are strong, you are a miraculous marvel of nature, you are awe-inspiring and you are BEAUTIFUL!"
"My precious Kitty, I love you."
I gave it a gentle pat and it responded accordingly, almost as if to affirm that I had been forgiven.
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