Sunday, March 20, 2005

The Vagina Monologues

the world famous play came to our city this weekend and i watched it with my sister and eldest daughter last night.

i already had an idea of the content of the play, having read and heard of it from so many rave reviews before, but still i was curious about the details. i think most other people there who came went there to be titillated, but i hope they came out more enlightened about women and how things really are for women.

the play is a product of hundreds of interviews by Eve Ensler with women, talking about their vaginas. but it is not as simple as that because the vagina is a very political thing in itself.

it can be said that the vagina is a woman's mouthpiece. if she doesn't even see hers, much less know it and is intimate with it, she is basically without voice, in the real sense of the word. but when she starts getting to know hers, and all its intricacies and complexities, lo and behold, she finds her voice to speak up for all the many other things that assail her -- feeling overburdened, unappreciated, used, abused, giving too much without getting as much, etc.

it is interesting to note that in a so-called postmodern, free-thinking world, most people, including most women, are still hesitant to call a vagina a vagina. the very act of naming something is acknowledging it; and not naming it for what it is is, in fact, ignoring it, disempowering it. so that was the first part of the show, with one of the lead characters asking the audience for a show of hands to count how many vaginas there are.

my daughter, sister and i enthusiastically raised our arms, but the rest were shy to follow. but oh, i can tell from the shy smiles and the twinkling eyes of those who followed, it was a small act of liberation, of empowerment for them, to actually acknowledge their vaginas and be proud enough to admit it. heehee.

my 12-year-old daughter, Thea, smirked, "that is downright stupid, to be afraid to call your vagina a vagina, and to be shy to admit you have one. it's like being shy of calling your nose a nose, and admitting you have one!"

i'm training her early, my little girl who is not so little anymore. : )


i found my vagina, and--looking back now-- my G-spot, when i discovered the wonders of self-pleasuring at 9 years old.

i loved sleeping on my tummy (i still do) and one restless night, with a pillow under my tummy, i started rubbing my self against the edge of the pillow... and i was on my way. : )

at that age, i never even knew what the term for the pleasure spot was, nor the self-pleasuring act it self, but i kept at it even when i learned that it's supposed to be taboo and sinful, just because when the world turned really rough and tough and nobody was there for me, i knew at least that i could give my self pleasure. (up until lately, though, i never realized that the G-spot could be stimulated from inside, as i've always done it from outside!!! : O)

throughout my teens, i was curious about my vagina and what it could do to give and receive more pleasures so i read a lot of books and looked at a lot of drawings to become intimately familiar with it.

strangely enough, as i also wanted to be a nun all throughout my teens, i kept my self physically "pure and chaste" by not even holding hands with a boy!!! don't laugh now, but i actually practiced kissing ... with a small banana, twirling my tongue around it, at the coaching of my girl best friend.

what a contradiction i am, huh. : )

the familiarization took on a more compelling turn when i was about to give birth to my first child. almost every day towards the day of childbirth, with mirror in hand, i looked at my vagina every chance i could get, gazing at it in wonder and awe and amazement, getting to know its very intimate folds and crevices and changes in color, texture and fragrance, at different times of the day and night, at different days and nights.

i was surprised to find that the eleven (11!) moles i had around the vaginal and perineum areas in my late teens, have dwindled down to seven, but i thought maybe it's about time i moved from Power 11 to Lucky 7... hehehehhhh... as i was married and was about to become a mother anyway. : )

last time i checked, it was still a Lucky 7, so im okay.


how a vagina behaves is a metaphor for how a woman likes to be treated by a man.

it is hidden until it is encouraged to come out, with loving care and attention. forcefulness can make it show itself too, but you won't get it wet and ready, no matter how hard you try with all the sexual techniques you know. nice and gentle loving care and attention does it every time, though.

it's funny how the predominantly women audience resonated to that part when one of the characters asked, "If your vagina could speak only two words, what would it say?"

"Slow down!!!", and the audience hooted and clapped. : )

one of the other questions asked in the play was: "If you could dress up your vagina, what would your vagina wear?"

there were many and varied answers: from denims and lace, to satin and silk, a mink coat, shorts and a tee, a slicker and boots, a gold lame gown, a fancy hat and sexy lingerie and garters... the answers were as varied as women are varied.

the microphone never got around to me, but if i were asked, I know what mine would wear--

a tiara of diamonds, nothing more, nothing less, bare naked in all its glory!!!

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