Archive for June, 2017
Just so you know you all aren’t the only ones who have to put up with my vaginal whining. Poor Jane has had more than a few earfuls along with the other friends in our little circle. It would seem though that I am the only one willing to openly gripe, and probe about the deteriorating condition of my uterus. I know for a fact that I am not the only one old enough to face these issues since I am third (She types proudly 😉 ) to the youngest in our little bunch.
Jane has me beat in the birthday department by a few years so after my repeated hounding she finally snapped saying she really didn’t see the point of dwelling on this subject. Now at this particular point I completely tucked away my despair due to my sudden amusement of her reaction. Yes I’m a horrible friend who is actually amused by her friend’s discomfort over subject matters that make them squirm. Jane in particular is still sensitive to her stripper pole injury that ended in her having to use a walker for a little while.
The injury has long since healed, but she is still touchy about my public ribbing in her doctor’s office. Okay a lot of ribbing even outside of the office too.See my post “Love Hurts- When You Fall Off Your Stripper Pole.” I just wish I were able to completely convey the hilariousness of Jane when she is embarrassed by something. As I type this out loud it occurs to me that if she were as awful a friend as I am she would have realized that I had actually given her some pretty good ammunition to retaliate. Lucky for me she was so uncomfortable with my “Vagina monologue” that the idea has not even occurred to her.
Finally Jane confesses that my vagina isn’t the only one with drought issues. Her face scrunched up, and her left eye twitching nervously. Seeing the eye twitch immediately lowers my maturity number to the single digit level. So I lean forward holding my imaginary interview microphone, and ask her how she’s bringing rain to her desert. She physically scoots farther away from me on the couch, then snaps “That this is the exact reason why she does not want to have this discussion with me!” So of course I scoot closer to her with my imaginary microphone in hand, and say ” Jane what kind of friend refuses to share her dried up vagina stories with a friend inquiring minds want to know?” Her eye stopped twitching while her middle finger shot up, then she made a “Target Lady at Christmas dash for her bar.
I run over next to her promising to never call her vagina a desert again as tears stream down my cheeks trying to control my laughter. Jane slaps my arm, then asks me what exactly did I want to know? My first question was why she never brought this subject up to me? Okay dumb question I know, but there is seriously some great secrecy out there with women who are experiencing some betrayal from their own vaginas. Then she looks me straight in the eye, and asks me “How much humor was I finding with in my own desert?” Yep, it’s all fun & games until it’s your dried up vagina. 😉
I have to say that I thought nothing about aging would make me any more annoyed than getting use to wearing glasses every time I need to read something. Well how wrong was I? Now life has taken a completely different turn, and I have to admit I’m pretty angry about the way it has effected Mr. G-uno, and I’s sex life. Any one who has been in a long-term relationship will tell you that it’s hard work balancing two humans wants, desires, and needs on an ongoing basis.
Mr G-uno, and I have been at this for over 34 years. I have been completely spoiled in one area of our relationship. Our sex life has always been the most compatible part of our relationship. We ran on automatic pilot, and our biggest obstacle was finding time to be alone to do what we like doing best. In other areas we are complete opposites. We are both strong-willed, we both think our way is the best way so there has never been a lack of passion either inside the bedroom, or outside. The saving grace no matter how explosive we are as a couple is the sex.
It’s always been the one area where we are explosive, and completely in synch, That is until “The Magical Vagina” became hormonally challenged. Hormone replacement therapy is not an option for me because of genetic predisposition health issues. To be perfectly honest I can learn to deal with experimenting with sexual lubricants. It’s wrapping my mind around the loss of who I have always been that scares me. More importantly the loss of who Mr G-uno, and I have always been sexually.
So what do you do? In my case when I finally faced what was going on with me, I just sat Mr. G-uno down to make sure he knew that nothing had changed between us. My issues have nothing to do with him being less attractive, or less desirable. I have to pull up my big girl pants, and adjust to this next phase of my life. The thought that scares me is that it does change us.
The female vagina is quite possibly one of the great mysteries in life. Women like men sometimes name their secret spot. I have been known to call my own “The Magical Vagina” on more than one occasion, g-2 even trade marked my pet name at one point. Lately though I have revoked her (my “Magical Vagina”) of the privilege due to the fact that she has become a traitorous bitch.
Being a female I have experienced more than a few back- stabbings from other vaginally equipped species of my gender, but the betrayal of my very own “Magical Vagina” was a completely harsh blow. I’m not exactly sure why I thought my personal vagina would be impervious to the symptoms of “The Big M” (Menopause), but I did. I find being betrayed by one’s own vagina to be unsettling in more than one way.
The secrecy of the well-known betrayal runs deeper than one might imagine. Aside from “Frankie & Grace” no one seems to want to talk about it. I guess for women it’s on the same level as erectile dysfunction, there seems to be a great deal of shame attached to the whole phenomena. This shame has some pretty deadly side effects, and should come with some strong warning labels like-…
Warning your vagina can suddenly go from being a lush garden to a dry, and barren desert. Side effects include painful sexual encounters, the forced practice of finding compatible lubricants, and God forbid vaginal tearing.
You may find yourself being secretly ambushed over a period of time by a diminishing sex drive caused by a depression that sneaks up on you like a terrorist in an airport. The terrorist (Menopause) is there right under your nose. You know it exists, but it’s attack is somehow surprisingly devastating.
Dealing with the psychological realization that you have to first accept, then deal with your no longer “Magical Vagina” can cause you to unknowingly leave your sexual partner feeling unwanted, and undesirable.
The fear that your sex life will never be the same again may cause severe bouts of irrational thinking/bizarre reactions. Such as the demonizing of your own genitalia. resulting in such things as revoking her previously glorious title “The Magical Vagina!” 😉