Vagina (mine)

I like the word vagina.

A man once told me not to call it that. He said it sounded too clinical; it was a turn off. It wasn’t sexy. I wondered why he thought it was up to him to decide what I should call my vagina.

I like the word vagina.

It feels good in my mouth; It’s not loaded, there are no connotations. It’s just vagina.

I toyed with euphemisms—when I was younger, I called my vagina “my lady parts” when talking with my grandmother. She thought I was daring for even mentioning it and I didn’t want to upset her propriety. Now, when we talk about woman things, I just call it my vagina. She loves that I’m scandalous.

Pussy is soft and accommodating and compliant. It’s amenable and unresisting. Cunt is brazen and offensive and defiant. Those are words with expectations and agendas.

But god, give me pussy or cunt any day over the cutesy infantilization of va-jay-jay or vagoo. (Ew.)

Mine is still a vagina.