I’m not a doctor. But I do have a body with a cunt. And I am now learning how to listen to it after almost a whole lifetime of ignoring it and its role in my own development as this woman thing (see my poem Stroking (my) Imaginary Dick for more insight).

I have lots of experience ignoring my body’s messages of distress. For example, apparently I lived at least 5 years of life with a cyst growing on my ovary. Now that I look back, I admit that I had received signals of its existence. I had pain that I ignored when I peed, emotional and physical ups and downs, a very extreme lack of energy and strength (which is crazy because I am VERY strong), and to top it all off, I had to position myself just right to not feel pain during intercourse.

It would be easy to feel dumb about this. And easy to admonish my ignorance. But I was so busy trying to survive in the past 5 years, that I didn’t have capacity for any other problems. Sure, I felt like I needed to do something, but I was alone and tired of doing something. I was also learning how to really, I mean truly, be myself. I ignored the signals until I could handle more stuff on my plate of growing up. So instead of feeling dumb and wasting more time, I’m just grateful I am here now, listening to my pussy.

Here we are. In bed almost 3 weeks after surgery. At a different time in life with more space to breathe and take action towards being…in my body.

As I lay in bed, I notice something that has happened all throughout my life since getting my period: A TWITCHY TWAT.

It’s annoying. I hate it. It happens at night right before I got to bed. Sometimes it is strong and long lasting. Other times it twitches twice and then behaves. All I know is it is something I have shared with doctors and they always say the same thing. Huh. You might be stressed.

Oh really?

Noticing this twitchy twat led me to make other vaginal observations. My standard state of the body is TENSE. My vagina is in perpetual Kegel hold mode. My labia are dry and sad. And I tense up even more if I am fucking around with someone new…when I should be open, relaxed and living.

Y’all. My poor vag needs care from me. A little TLC. A little softening of the insides and a refresher for the dusty outside.

So here we are. Learning how to get loose. Finding the right balance of pH, oils and moisture, strength and vulnerability, relaxation and protection.

As I began to connect my current cunt conundrum to my past ignorance of my own genitalia, I started to discover both the physical and philosophical reasonings behind this current state. And it’s so much more than I have given it credit for.

I made a promise to myself last night as I realized all of this and my twat twitched away…I want to focus on my cunt and bring relaxation to the pelvic floor for the next 40 days. This is very important to me as a poet, artist, and woman who has one of these god forsaken flesh holes.

Like I mentioned to start, I am not a doctor, but I do want to listen closer, find this issues that can be worked on, and take the time to really bring my vagina the care it deserves.

I’ll let myself fall into it and see what I can find. To tell you the truth, it’s kind of intimidating. But if I can know my own vagina as well as I know my imaginary dick, I’ll be better off.

Stay tuned for the practices, insight, poetry, performances and who know what else comes out of this exploration.