The sun has chosen to shine again.
The pen has been refilled.
And I write afresh.
So where was I?
It has been ages since I wrote, anything. There is a myriad of reasons for this:
- I…my pen was out of ink
- My mind was occupied by the events of this year, and I was too defeated to mentalize, and intellectualize, my thoughts.
- I was battling a mind-numbing depressive episode, for which I didn’t seek help because I fear psychologists and think I can treat myself. Nobody should have me as a role model I swear.
- My new work environment, work hours and the extra time we had to put in after hours for presentations and essays, did not do much for my mental state.
With the aforementioned, I felt I could not write, and post, anything I would not be ashamed of or embarrassed by.
I needed time to myself, to overthink and to not think, to sleep and to rest [depression will teach you that the two are not always synonymous], to be alone without worrying about needing to show up for anyone except myself.
Winter has gone
That said, blessedly, Winter does not last forever; the sun shines again, the pen refills with ink, and I write afresh, released from depression’s tight hold.
And so, I’m back.
Back with a new series. I chose to call it “The Vagina Monologue”
Many will be familiar with this term. It was coined by author Eve Ensler, who collated stories from women about, yes, the vagina, and turned them into a book. Stories about love, sex, abuse, and the like can be found in this book. It is a powerful book that brings to the fore a word usually accompanied by reddening cheeks and asterixis, or replaced with nicknames synonymous with baked goods or cats.
The notorious Urban Dictionary has a beautifully chaotic definition of the term: “a vagina monologue is when a female goes on and on incessantly about something that a man could really give a shit about.”
And herein lies my series. My own vagina monologue. Me going on and on incessantly about, well, my vagina [*gasps*].
In the next few weeks, my blog will focus on the nether region. Here, you will read about a problem I don’t see spoken of nearly enough; you will read about my thoughts on the creation of Eve, my first visit to the vagina doctor, my last sexual encounter with a man, my silly reason for breaking up with a boy, my celibacy and about contraception.
The cutest part in this here series, is that the first letter of each blog post title will eventually spell out V.A.G.I.N.A. So, for the next six weeks, I invite you to [in the words of the ever-sensual miss Cardi B] bring a bucket and a mop 😉
Hope you enjoy