The 6 Things My Vagina Would Say (If It Could Talk)

Oh, the stories she could tell...

talking vagina

I talk to everyone. Seriously, everyone. It’s both a blessing and a curse. My ability to strike up conversations with the most random people is something my husband both loves and hates about me. He loves it when it gets us free valet parking (because I sweet-talked the bell boy), but hates it when we have to attend a birthday party for the neighbors down the street he barely knows.

Either way, there’s no doubt I’ve had a conversation with nearly everyone I’ve ever come in contact with, but here’s one conversation I’ve never had. I have to admit, it’s a conversation I thought would have occurred by now (especially given how much vodka I ingested in my college days). Who am I referring to? It’s not so much a who as a what. My lady bits. Yes, I am referring to my vagina. No, I’ve never had a conversation with her, but if I COULD, I suspect she’d do all the talking. She probably has a thing or two to say to me about our years on the planet together. I also think she’d have an East Coast accent, although I’m not sure why.


Here's what she'd say:

1. "Would it kill you to go commando every now and then? A girl has to breathe and bargain bin panties practically suffocate me on a daily basis. I'm praying you'll pass gas just so I can get a breeze. Ditch the undies, or at least buy a pair that isn't on sale. I deserve better."

2. "I'm not so sure about that 'doctor' you see, but I have a hard time believing she's here to help me when all she does is shove metal tools in me and the fill me up with lube (and not even the good kind). I swear she enjoys watching me squirm, which is even more disturbing because she gets paid to do it. Please tell me you're not paying a co-pay for that 'service.'"


3. "I'm considering calling the authorities on you for the regular torture you put me through. Whatever "waxing treatment" is, it should be called something else because ripping me apart by my hair follicles should never be referred to as a treatment. That's called torture, and I'm pretty sure it violates the Geneva Convention."

4. "Speaking of torture, water boarding isn't cool either. Shoving a plastic nozzle up my mouth and then flooding me with vinegar water might be a great way to find out what I really think of your new sexual position, but it's no way to treat me. If you absolutely must continue, might I suggest a soothing scent? Lilac would be nice."

5. "Can we address the revolving door of men you've subjected me to over the years? In your 20s, I worked some serious overtime (often to the point of exhaustion). Did I get time-and-a-half or holiday pay for all of that hard work? No. Nothing. I've been working hard for you for years and all I've gotten in return is two forms of torture and underwear with holes in the crotch. Come to think of it, you never wore underwear with holes in them when you were single and I was working double shifts..."

6. "I'm a lady—a lady who should be treated right—and two-ply toilet paper is offensive. And don't even get me started on generic tampons. Seriously? Aren't I better than that? I've suffered enough, so I'm demanding comfort and pampering, which means only name-brand cotton products will do. And throw in some perfume once in a while, would ya? A girl needs to feel pretty." That about sums up what my vagina would say if she could talk. Now that I think about it, talking with my nether-regions may not be such a good idea.  I’ve got enough friends. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to buy new underwear … maybe I'll even spring for a pair that’s full price.