The first vagina I saw was my own.
It was also the only vagina I’ve ever seen in person – until my daughter was born. I didn’t grow up in a very nude household and I have no clear memory of seeing either of my parents naked. I have no sisters.
I never really thought much about my own vagina until I discovered my older brother’s stash of porn magazines in our basement one day when I was about 16. They weren’t particularly hardcore – not compared to today’s porn – but one thing struck me straight away. The vaginas looked nothing like mine. They were all pink and… ‘pristine’ is the word that comes to mind. I just remember feeling suddenly like a freak. The women in the magazines had these neat, hairless vaginas. They were innies. Nothing was on the outside. No protruding labia. No hair even. They almost looked like Barbies.
It wasn’t until years later when I read an article in a women’s magazine that I learned that these vaginas weren’t real.
In Australian magazines, all vaginas have to be ‘healed to a single crease’ according to the censors. I’ll never forget that description. Anything ‘outside’ the crease has to be photoshopped away.
I spent the next few years feeling very self-conscious about my vagina. Thinking there was something wrong with it and wrong with me.
Men never complained – and it’s not like I ever brought it up – and I went one on to have a very happy normal sex life. But I always felt a bit worried that I was abnormal or unattractive down there.
Last week when I read on Mamamia about the students who had anonymously photographed their vaginas for their university magazine that was then deemed to be ‘offensive’ and had to be pulped, I clicked on the link to see the uncensored images and was blown away by what I saw. They were so different! And some looked like mine! (You can see the uncensored – and not safe for work – Honi Soit cover by clicking HERE)
Why did nobody show me something like this when I was growing up?
It’s been a long time since anyone new saw my vagina – I’ve been married for 16 years – and I rarely think about it anymore. I’m not so self-conscious (I’m more concerned about the fact that I wee when I try to jump with the kids on the trampoline but that’s a whole other story….).