￼Growing up when puberty hit meant I suddenly went from playing “Jenny Jones” in the shower with my best friend interviewing each other with shampoo bottles – to refusing to get naked around anyone.
I’ll never forget when I walked out of the shower and my mom pointed and laughed saying “You’re getting hair down there!” As if it was somehow funny. I had been oblivious to the fact but upon immediate discovery I ran into my room and cried.
No one prepares you for puberty. Or blood draining from your vagina. Or tampons. Or a dick in your box.
As I started to grow boobs, and pubic hair; I also started to develop “a real vagina”. Suddenly I spouted Labia and I thought I was going to hell because I masturbated so much I must have stretched my vagina skin. It didn’t help that I looked different than some of my friends. Their vaginas were so nice and neat. (This may or may not have attributed to remaining a virgin my whole high school years…)
I hated my vagina. I never wanted anyone to see it – and if you look like me, you may have tried a variety of techniques like the ‘spread and tuck’ to morph the appearance. I found my peers had no experience in vagina viewing so it only added to my stress when certain vagina architecture was made fun of or “gross”.
I envied my friends perfect, neat vagina. It was the holy grail of setups in my mind. While all I could compare mine to was a miniature ball sac of labia. Don’t look or it will stick its tongue out at you.
My curiosity was insatiable. The internet was only providing me two options – a vagina with a dick in it, or before and afters of labia surgery. (some things you can’t unsee.) Not to mention, I couldn’t really go to my girl friends or mom and say “Show me your vagina, please?” without my sanity or sexuality being questioned.
So I used the resources available. The first was every technician who waxed me. We had in-depth conversations at what it was like to look at several vaginas a day. There’s a difference in the relationship to someone who doesn’t fuck your vagina, but up-keeps it for you – it’s quite vulnerable to be on a bed, legs spread, lights blaring and she’s tugging and pulling and adjusting that. If anyone was going to have the breakdown on vagina’s, it was her. But somewhere in all the stories, the verbal descriptions were not translating.
The second was my OBGYN. One time I had a male doctor and I asked him, “Am I normal down there?” And he got uncomfortable, and said, “Maybe you should ask your boyfriend that.”
Well doc, I didn’t have a boyfriend at that time – maybe because of my perceived abnormal vagina!? Looking back, what could he really say? “Yes your vagina is great,” with two fingers pressing on my cervix?…
My options were getting low but I found what I like to call a “vagina viewing party.” Also known as an all-nude strip club. It was great to shamelessly view vaginas live, but one girl’s ass hole was so bleached I couldn’t find it. So much for that.
Having forged the journey I’ve since embraced my awesome vag. Where I once thought I was unique, I discovered I was not. There are thousands of us with beautiful, bold, neat, pierced, intricate vaginas. Just take a look at “The Great Wall of Vagina.” While I still envy my friends set-up I learned to let mine, hang loose.