Weekly Storytime: Nancy on Sex
By Nancy Hanna
business Manager

When we first slide out of the womb, one of the first declarations that reaches our young ears is “It’s a (insert gender here).” If your parents were impatient, it was probably the first thing they searched for within the murky depths of the sonogram. Thus begins a long and often complicated relationship to one’s own sexual organs.

We are defined by them, we redefine them, we defy them, we fear them, we discover them, we accept them, we protect them and share them. The experience of our sexual organs is at once one of our most personal and individualized stories and, at the same time, a thoroughly universal one.

Let us begin with that with which I am most familiar: those organs defined as female. If ever there was a topic ripe for discussion it is that of women and their genitals.

Our genitals are often the way that the world begins to know us. As infants, children are often dressed in a manner that aggressively announces the classification of their sexual organs to the world.

The pink elastic bow strapped across the bald foreheads of many an unsuspecting baby screams to the world, “Vulva right here! Treat accordingly.”

What can be most frustrating about such presentations of gender is the assumed universality of genitals. If there is one thing that a vulva and vagina exemplify, it is difference.

The look of the vulva is different. The book Femalia, a collection of photos displaying the amazing physical variety of vulvas, addresses the physical aspect of this issue.

My vulva looks different from your vulva, looks different from her vulva, looks different from his. Large clitorises, hidden clitorises, uneven labia, different colors, different textures all make up the details of that dynamic organ that is too often attached to a strangely mysterious and unifying norm of what a vulva should look like.

Most heterosexual women seldom get a chance to get a good look at vulvas other than their own. Too often this can lead to a general suspicion : “Is mine okay?” Picture your idea of the ideal vulva. Where did it come from?

The language of the vulva/vagina is different. Any self-identifying woman will have her own affections and disdain for terms such as vagina (too clinical), cunt (too aggressive), pussy (too demeaning), privates (too juvenile), poonany (too much), and “down there” (too little), which are some of the more universal ones. But there is no end to personal nicknames (“hoo hoo” and “chocolate” are two examples) used in reference to genitals.

The terms “vulva” and “vagina” are a personal favorite. Aside from the irresistible alliteration when used in unison, they force the speaker to be specific. There is nothing worse than a miscommunication when it comes to discussions of genitals; there are just too many ways to go wrong.

Vulva references the exterior of the genitals including the clitoris and the labia major and minora. The vagina is inside the body. Everyone has their own negotiation of this difficult terrain, but most interesting are the cultural connotations that are navigated. Decisions of language force a confrontation of the various understandings of our attitudes towards our genitals. And of course each name means an individual conception of your relationship to your genitals.

The pleasures of the vagina/ vulva are different. If there really is a “magic spot,” we haven’t found it ourselves yet as far as I can tell. The story of genital pleasure doesn’t even begin with penetration.

Some women LOVE penetration and some women are more than satisfied with clitoral stimulation, sometimes solitary stimulation, and sometimes it just takes two, and sometimes that other half just won’t work unless there is a penis and sometimes, nothing happens unless there’s another vulva/vagina combo, and never forget those for whom it just doesn’t matter, as long as someone gets the job done right.

A perennial if conflicted favorite of vagina/vulva pleasure is oral sex.

Of course no conversation regarding enjoyment of our genitals is complete without a discussion of confidence. Again the specter of that assumed homogeneity rears its ugly head in this story too. Do I smell “right?”

Do I taste “right?” Perhaps a scratch and sniff (and taste?) version of Femalia is in order to allow us to examine the inevitable variety of genital smells and tastes that exist.

Whether we discuss our genitals in terms of pleasure, looks or language, one of the more consistent aspects of our relationship with these aspects of our bodies is the range of difference through which in the end we develop our own experiences.