I had dinner with a dear friend tonight. She suggested I watch a documentary called “The Perfect Vagina” after I told her about my obsession with Labia Minor Plastic Surgery.

I always blame my vagina after a painful break-up

Like somehow, it’s all her fault. That if she only looked different, he would have stayed.

It is not fair. I know.

Upon returning to my home, I promptly watched the documentary, and I realized how horrified I would be if my beautiful, perfect daughter wanted to change hers. And even though it is too early to tell if hers will look like mine, what kind of example would I be giving her, if I butchered mine, now? After she has seen it so many times. We are not ashamed of the naked body around here.

I have to love myself exactly as I am.

Long floppy bits and small saggy tits.

This vagina gave birth to a human being!

And these boobs kept her alive, and soothed her, all the way up until she was almost three years old!

These tits and cunt deserve some credit.

Not disgust.


And blame.

That is one of the reasons it is comforting seeing someone who has had a child with someone. They understand the miracle of birth. They appreciate what a woman’s body can accomplish.

I was joking around one night with this twenty-something kid that obviously wanted to fuck me and I asked him, “Have you ever met a vagina you didn’t like?” And he said- and I bet he regrets his answer to this day- he said, “Yes, there was this one…”

When he was finished, I calmly said, “You, my friend, will absolutely never see mine then.”

He looked defeated. He tried back peddling. Saying he didn’t mean it.
But the damage was done.

Never disparage a vagina in front of a woman.



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