My Vagina Monologue
Last night I was in a play. It was a piece of reader’s theatre that you may have heard of: The Vagina Monologues.
I read a monologue about a woman who had gone to a workshop in an effort to learn how to have an orgasm. I thought it was pretty hilarious — and rather touching. And the audience did too. They laughed. It was so exciting to make so many people that happy — even though it was just for a few moments.
The piece probably also made them think. It made me think. In fact, I realized that I probably haven’t spent as much time thinking about my vagina as I spent reading that monologue. Not all at once, that’s for sure. And I certainly related to my monologue in that I never really considered my vagina to be something attached to me.
It’s a part of me sure, but when guys are trying to get into it — or spending time in it — I don’t always think of it as a part of me. And I don’t think the men do either. Not all of them. Maybe most of them.
So, because of this play I have spent a lot of time thinking about vaginas — mine in particular. And I can’t quite sort it out. Last night after the show a group of us went out for cocktails. We talked about the show. We asked some of the questions the show brought up. Like, what would your vagina wear? And if it could talk, what would it say?
I even asked some of the men what their penis would wear or say. None of us had very many answers to those questions. I suppose personifying a body part is rather difficult.
So, what’s the largest truth here? The first things that come to mind are all very negative.
My vagina is a place that has been invaded. A place that I have purposely tried not to think about. That’s probably the reason that I don’t consider it all that attached to me. I detached it by removing myself emotionally from whatever situation I was in. Thinking about it in the other room with the babysitter, the boyfriend, the stranger from the bar, and imagining myself on my couch or in the bathroom — maybe even hovering above the action watching it happen. Not even in my body let alone attached to that body part.
And that’s really all I can think of when I think of my vagina.
At least at the moment. And that’s not to say that I haven’t enjoyed it. I have. But the biggest thoughts are these ugly ones.
So I need some new, beautiful things to think about that body part. Things that will attach me to it. I guess I’ll just have to work on that.