The (Broken) Vagina Monologues - An Introduction
I am an unashamed over-sharer. Whether it be ingrown hairs, repulsive (but hilarious) farts, or embarrassing moments, I’m not afraid to have a chat about the things that others shy away from. I’m not sure why this is - perhaps I just have no shame - or where it stemmed from, but one thing I have noticed, is that for every one person who is horrified and vows never to speak to me again, there are several who find it hilarious and one that finds it useful. That’s where the idea for this series came from.
Talk comes around to my vagina quite a lot. When I’m with groups of friends, the topic often turns to sex, as it seems to when groups of twenty-somethings get together. I’ve never been one to shy away from these sorts of talks, but in stead of hilariously awkward stories of my latest exploits, for the past two years, my stories have mostly been about My Broken Vagina and the pain I experience after sex with my wonderful other half. Some of my friends, in the blogging world and the “real” world, have followed this journey, however reluctantly, and I thought it would make a good blog series.
When it was happening to me, and I would lay in bed feeling sorry for myself and very sore, desperately looking for answers online and coming up with a whole lot of nothing. I’m not saying that this blog is going to offer all the answers - or any at all, but hopefully it will help to make anyone else feel less alone, and to give those with va-jay-jays that are a-okay a good giggle, as some of this is awkwardly pretty funny.
So come along with me for the “ride” (pun intended), as I visit a vagina physio, a sex therapist and have enough people look inside me that I should have become a pokestop.