In honor of Valentine’s Day I want to take a moment to write a letter to my vagina, inspired by @vaginismus_girl.
I’ve seen this as a concept going around and I think I it’s a great way to lay to rest the strained past relationship you had with your lady bits.
Here goes..
My dear vagina,
We’ve been through so much these past 34 years, but especially these last 8.
I used to not pay you any mind. I didn’t really notice or acknowledge your existence throughout my childhood. Then adolescence happened and I grew to hate you with every fiber of my being. Why did you refuse tampons? Why couldn’t I even find where they were supposed to go? It was easier to just ignore you again than focus on my ever-growing concern about how you functioned (or didn’t).
Life went on that way until dating, which really threw me for a loop. I ignored you again, as long as I could, but when you love someone it’s hard to resist temptation.
I knew you still wouldn’t open up for me. I can’t say how, I just knew, so I didn’t even try. I thought I just wasn’t old enough and needed to grow up.
In college I thought it would change if I just met “the right guy”. It didn’t seem to matter how long I was with someone, how comfortable I grew, or how much I trusted him, I was still terrified of you and your betrayal. You were no bark and all bite. Without warning you just refused anything coming your way and I had to learn to work around that by sticking to external stimulation only.
This went on fine for a few years, but my mid 20’s came calling and demanded more attention. This was our lowest point. Getting an actual diagnosis, learning that something was really wrong, and realizing I would actually have to work super hard to overcome it was the hardest thing I’d dealt with yet. I didn’t feel like I would ever get through it.
Then, something changed.
I read, researched, found doctors who could help me and slowly but surely, you opened up. You accepted tampons, dilators, and one day even the real deal. I learned to drop my grudge against you and find the beauty within. I spent so much time pretending you weren’t there, and then despising you when it became clear you were, that I never got a chance to get to know you.
Who knew that you could actually be on my side? That you could actually bring me pleasure along with the pain? That you would stretch and grow with time and patience to accommodate more than I could ever imagine. That you could continue to amaze me with your strength and capability?
I thought surgery would be the answer to all my problems, and although it wasn’t, you stood through the recovery period and beyond to bring me to the other side.
We started our journey all over again but within a year I was back to where I was pre-surgery. You never stopped fighting for me and I started to trust you. So here we are, 2 and a half years later, single again, but thriving. You continue to amaze me and teach me new things about my body all the time. We’re still going strong and working our way through the muck, but every day we are closer to the end.
Frankly, I’m lucky to have you and I count my blessings for this now and forevermore.
– Krista (33 years old, Houston, USA)
P.S. I invite you to check out my blog Chronicles Of A Broken Body.
