Hello again friends! It’s been a while! My broken vagina and I have actually been busy growing a little human (I am aware that it’s my womb doing the growing, but it makes more sense poetically to say it’s my vag), and in a few months time (December to be exact) I will be pushing him out of it too! If I thought sex was painful, I feel like childbirth is going to be a whole other level… However, I realise I left you on a bit of a cliffhanger (or a clit-hanger as my pals at My Dad Wrote A Porno blog would say), and it’s time to catch up!
So back to physiotherapy we go. I did not know that Physio of the vag was a thing, and somehow I feel my life is better for knowing this.
This is the slightly crappy, intense one. The normal hilarity will return next time, but I felt it important to get this bit out on paper (or pixels) to give a true and honest representation of the whole condition. TW: rape, abuse, police incompetencies etc.
Steven, my future husband, is a very attractive man. The most attractive, I would say, and when we first got together, I was insatiable. We would rock up to everything, slightly late, with sex hair and that glorious haze that follows new couples around post-coitus. It was amazing. He was amazing and, fuck it, I was amazing too. Everything was wonderful.
I am an unashamed over-sharer. Whether it be ingrown hairs, repulsive (but hilarious) farts, or embarrassing moments, I’m not afraid to have a chat about the things that others shy away from. I’m not sure why this is – perhaps I just have no shame – or where it stemmed from, but one thing I have noticed, is that for every one person who is horrified and vows never to speak to me again, there are several who find it hilarious and one that finds it useful. That’s where the idea for this series came from.