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story 164
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my earliest memory of
my vagina is...
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Probably about eight
or nine years old... My dog would sleep
under the covers and in his sniffing around, usually found his
way to my vagina. I remember how good it felt to have his
tongue licking on me, but I had no idea what was going on.
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when I was
little, my mother told me...
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Absolutely
nothing. I don't think she even KNOWS she has a
vagina
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when my friends
and I first talked about our vaginas...
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I had a
friend who use to come over in the mornings before
school and she asked me to 'dry hump' her so she could know
what it would feel like.
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when I got
my first period...
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I was ready,
thanks to Judy Blume. I told my mom, and she gave
me a thick bulky pad and told me I could have babies now, so I
better be smart and not let boys near it.
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the first
time I shared my vagina with someone else...
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I had
already experienced an orgasm due to my curious dog. His
nightly search for something tasty became a welcomed ritual.
The first time I came, I had no clue what had happened. I
remember hopping up and looking at my vagina in the mirror,
then my face, to see if I looked different. I let some
snot-faced boy touch it at a friend's house after school. I
remember thinking he had NO clue what to do with a vagina.
After awhile guilt set in over my dog-ritual, and I began
masterbating regularly with my hand, or a brush handle. It was
years before any boy learned to make me come, and I pretty
much had to show him what to do over the course of a three
year relationship.
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what I told/would tell
my daughter about her vagina...
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Own it. It's yours.
It has power, and tenderness, and great
responsibility.
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this conversation
makes me think...
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women are
wonderful.
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