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story 159
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my earliest memory of
my vagina is...
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Sitting on the
headmistress' desk in kindergarten, being asked
by a police detective--my mum and dad standing behind her--if
the "strange man" had touched my vagina. I didn't know what
she meant--I remember crying and being scared, and eventually
my mum asked if he had touched between my legs. He had, and
so I was taken to the emergency room and that's my first
memory of my vagina--on my back, in hospital, with my mother
beside me, crying, and police officers everywhere. I remember
mostly it was cold, and I had a scraped knee--I'd kicked and
screamed and fought this man, who as it turned out hadn't
raped me, only orally sodomised me--and I remember wondering
why none of the doctors had a Band-Aid for my knee. I was
four, and that's what I remember most, 23 years later--wanting
a Band-Aid for my knee and wondering why anyone cared about
that place between my legs.
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when I was
little, my mother told me...
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Nothing,
when I was younger. In fifth grade, after the
(segregated by sex!) sex-ed classes, my mother talked to me
about birth-control, and about abortion, but somehow avoided
the whole penetration-penis-vagina issue....so I was still
pretty much in the dark for a while. My mum also used a lot
of feminine-hygiene products, and I remember the distinct
odour of her spray powder and that musty scent in the bathroom
after she'd been in there. I wish she'd told me that some
scent was normal...to this day I worry about my own scent,
despite numerous assurances that I smell (and taste) fine.
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when my friends
and I first talked about our vaginas...
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We
talked about our periods, who had them, who didn't....this
was from 4th grade on. We also read "Forever" by Judy
Blume...talked about sex, how it would feel. We didn't know
what ejaculate was, and it grossed us out to think that a man
would pee inside us--that's what we thought happened when a
man climaxed. Mostly, though, we talked about our periods.
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when I got
my first period...
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I was
12, and I came home from school, went to go winky, and
there were brownish-red streaks in my panties. I was in such
denial--I didn't want to tell my mum, even though she'd been
enthusiastically querying me every so often about whether or
not I'd hit menarche. So I just ignored it, for two days...it
never occurred to me that the bleeding could be so heavy as to
soak through my panties, and fortunately, it wasn't. On the
evening of my second day, I told my mum, and she was pleased,
she went to the store and bought me some mini-pads and a red
rose. I remember lying in bed that night, thinking that it
was odd, that the blood came without me even feeling it. I
guess I'd always thought I'd feel something. It's only now
that I realise how lucky I am not to have cramps--I have heavy
flow, but no cramping, no PMS--but at the time I felt like I
wasn't "really" menstruating.
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the first
time I shared my vagina with someone else...
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I
was 17, and dating a much older man--he was 28, I think--and
we'd had dinner at his apartment and he had a futon right
there next to the dining table. It was blue (you remember
stupid things, don't you?), and I sat down on it, crosslegged,
I had a skirt on with stockings but my shoes were off. He sat
down next to me, started nuzzling my ear, and kissing my neck,
and we started kissing and making out--still sitting up. Then
he lay down and asked me to lay down next to him. I was so
naive...I'd never kissed anyone before, and I thought that if
a man and woman lay down next to each other, they would have
sex. So I told him I couldn't lay down, because I was a
virgin. I remember him laughing, and that weird tingly
feeling of arousal, and him pulling me down beside him and
kissing me. He undid my shirt and then tugged down my
skirt...I was so terrified, I just lay there, barely
breathing. He was kissing my nipples--I had a front-hook bra
on and he'd undone it somehow--and then I closed my eyes and
then I felt a warm hardness against my panties. His fingers
were so big, is what I remember most. They were big, and
rough, and when he put his hand in my panties and found my
split and touched me, I remember thinking that it felt like
sandpaper, and then he found my wetness and the sandpaper
feeling went away. This must have gone on twenty minutes or a
half hour, and then the phone rang, and he sat up, and while
he was on the phone I dressed and left. A few weeks later,
he took my virginity...a hard push and pain and blood and then
he rolled off of me and vomited. Apparently, a man can feel
it when the membrane ruptures, and the feeling made him sick.
So it wasn't a fabulous experience, but there it is.
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what I told/would tell
my daughter about her vagina...
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That it is beautiful,
and special, and perfectly amazing;
that sex is a gift you can give over and over again; and that
if a man doesn't worship your pussy, he isn't worth bedding at
all.
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this conversation
makes me think...
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Of
the last time I had sex...furtive, my son watching Elmo in
the next room...up against the bathroom wall, my feet braced
on the sink basin countertop, and my boyfriend's face when he
entered me...surprise and ecstacy and the way that making him
feel like that makes me feel.
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