An Open Apology: Sorry My Vagina is Being Such a Cunt

It is my vagina, right?

Because I used to think it was my tits. They are so much more “in your face,” after all.

Technically though, you have tits, too. Yours are just smaller and less useful due to a different cocktail of hormones.

I’ve ruled out my uterus, ovaries, and other reproductive organs because “out of sight, out of mind.” I guess it could be my clit, but I’m going to assume that while you may have a general idea of its location, you will probably still not be capable of putting your finger on it.

Even with a map. And GPS.

So, my vagina it must be.

Sorry.

Sorry my vagina keeps you from being all business-like. It must suck to be incapable of speaking to me, a fellow human being, in a respectful manner. Like the way you speak to other men.

I’m sorry my vagina doesn’t look like the penises you want surrounding you all the time. It must be annoying to have to constantly ask to speak with my husband. Imagine if my vagina was one of those uppity vaginas who didn’t have a husband? I bet that’s tough for you when that happens.

Sorry you can’t work on my car, or change my tire, or sell me stuff, or build me a house because of my pesky vagina. I mean, there are so darn many of us humans with vaginas around! I can see how that must eat into your potential income. Sorry.

Sorry my vagina forces you to explain to me the ways of the world in simplified terms. That must be exhausting. It tires me out just listening to it, so I can imagine how it must make you feel. Especially when a vagina points out things like “credentials” and “expertise” and “years of experience” and “advanced degrees” and other things that make a vagina feel as if the body its attached to is knowledgeable and qualified to speak on a topic. Then you have to re-explain it and dumb things down further.

Because vagina.

Sorry my vagina is just, like, this gaping hole that needs to be filled. It must be that you’ve never outgrown that urge you had as a kid to stick something in the electrical socket and here I am walking around with a hole that you just want to put things into. Sorry your mom assumed you’d listen when she told you “no.”

In her defense, vagina.

I can see how it must anger you to walk through life with all these gaping vaginas around you and people expecting you to not stick stuff in them whenever and wherever you want. Sometimes when you do that, you end up arrested. Not all the time, but sometimes. And that must really throw you for a loop. Because hey, it’s just like any other hole. Right?

It seems like vaginas everywhere lately are being so cunty. (Is that a word? You tell me, because I have a vagina and we all know how that clouds my judgment.) It’s like they just keep insisting on being paid the same and treated the same as penises. They think they have “ideas” and that they have “rights.” It seems too like there are lots of penises getting on board. Penises who think the same and work to respect the vaginas. WTF, amiright?

Sorry that whole scene knocks you off your high horse. I can see why that is so scary for you. I mean, who would want to have to suddenly embrace new norms AND admit to not being the end all, be all authority on all things AND stop sticking whatever they want into any gaping vagina that walks by whenever?!

Sorry.

I have to admit something, though. Despite all this apologizing I’ve done, I kind of like the idea of being seen as more than just a vagina.

Even if you prefer to keep being a dick.

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