I’m going to state up front that this blog will probably have the word pussy in it more than any other article outside of Penthouse. (Do they even publish Penthouse anymore? There, I’ve aged myself with my lack of softcore porn knowledge). Pussy. A lot of women, in fact most aren’t very comfortable with that word. I had this conversation with a girlfriend recently. Tried to get her to say it. She would , but always like – well I hate to say left a bad taste in her mouth …. But yeah, it’s there.  A lot of women use words like Va jay-jay. Down there. Clinical ownership like My Vagina.

I say own the word. Say it. Get used to saying. Watch the expression of others when you use that word instead of Your Kitty. Watch a little Sarah Silverman. Say it with a lisp. Take the power out of it. Realize it’s just a word that’s been considered vulgar and taboo and male. Get comfortable with it.

Of course this isn’t necessary if you have children. I wouldn’t have wanted my girls talking about their pussy any more than I would want them to say they needed to go to the fucking bathroom. But as an adult I felt silly still using the term Ni-ni. Yes, that’s what we called it when the girls were little. It’s an appropriate term for three year old. It’s a silly term for a 50-year old.

Last week I was informed by a friend that a mutual acquaintance had whispered to him that I had an ugly pussy.

My first reaction was like that of a five-year old. I wanted to burst into tears. WHY would someone say that? Why would someone who never saw it say that? Why would this woman who I hadn’t been friends with in nearly a decade, say something so hurtful, so derogatory about another woman’s nether regions? Her pussy?

My rationale mind knew this was complete garbage. Not my pussy, mind you (hahahaha! AS IF!), her statement. She has had problems with the truth, with her own self-esteem, and we had a very fractured relationship at best. Now add a man into the mix, sprinkle heavily with what can only amount to jealousy (which is the wide held consensus to the few I have repeated the story and asked but why) and VOILA. You shake it out and get off-the-wall insults like that. We spoke thru social media that night and I asked her WHY? She danced around the accusation, made it about her own pain, and refused to deny. Same shit that ended our friendship eons ago.

My hurt feelings still had a hard time wrapping themselves around the realities of such an invasive and forceful insult. Did I? Was mine uglier than … well – what does a pretty one look like anyway? I started to laugh with the friend who had passed the pussy-info onto me. Of all things Vaginal. I mean seriously, that was the best she could come up? It threw me for a moment, but it’s not like I suffer from Low Vaginal Esteem. Poor Pussy Appreciation. Oh the jokes, they were a-coming. Including THAT one.

A friend I texted the insult to suggested we do a pussy pic line-up and ask her to point to the aversion she recalled. It was just getting less hurtful and a hell of a lot funnier.

By Saturday I found the story hysterical. There wasn’t an ounce of me that insulted any longer. With a few girlfriends around and some tequila, we decided if it hasn’t already been invented we needed a Vaginal Bedazzler. Something non-permanent. Sequins. Maybe some glitter. Just make it shiny. Make it pretty.

Back to the original day of attack. After the initial insult had worn off, and the conveyor of insults and I were talking he asked. I knew he would. He’s just that kind of a guy. “So is it?” he said.

I played dumb. “So is what?, I replied.

Is it ugly?

My mind raced for a moment. “Welllll…” I started hesitantly, “After the accident, you know … the staples” I sort of sputtered out. Like it made me very uncomfortable.

The staples?!” he responded. I knew I had him hooked.

The staples they had to use to seal it. That and the stitches…” Thank God this conversation was over the phone, because I was about to lose it. “It’s sort of … well … it’s sort of a … a … a Frankenpussy.

A WHAT?” he answered back. I could only imagine the horror he had painted in his mind, and all I could do was laugh. And laugh and laugh.

I know what I am going as for Halloween. 😉



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