"Being vulnerable in such an intimate and personal way brought out demons I thought I'd slayed."

She asked me to send her photos and a list of words that describe the place I wanted to go with this painted portal.  I gave her these:  childlike wonder, enchantment glorious, dazzling, peace, knowing, delighted, fairy,  flying, playful, creative, castles, clouds, wings.

The only reason I ever knew what my vulva looks like is due to my husband insisting I look at myself. He's always told me how beautiful it is and is baffled when I disagree. So, taking a picture of my vulvae was an awkward, unenjoyable experience.  I found myself judging it, criticizing the color because I think dark-brownish-purple is ugly. And the labia folds are floppy and seem to get in the way sometimes. 

For 44 years of life, I had no idea there were differences between one vulva or another, beyond nominal variations. I honestly thought they all looked the same. Only four years ago was I educated on how hugely different they truly are! 

For two days, the resistance to submit the images to SofiÅ was almost more than I could take. It threatened to bring me to my knees and contemplate bowing out of this experience.  I had to literally build up the  courage to hit the "send" button.  I desperately wanted to Photoshop it so SofiÅ wouldn't know that it was a dark brownish purple nor that it had ruffles.  It wasn't perfectly formed and looked  disfigured in some places, at least in my eyes. Beyond that, I experienced incredible self judgment in seemingly unrelated circumstances. It was like that awful, shaming "you are not worthy of anything" voice was yelling all my imperfections through a megaphone to my husband, to my children, to the cashier at the grocery store.

 Being vulnerable in such an intimate and personal way brought out demons  I thought I'd slayed.  Because I was always taught to cover up my 'privates' (even from MYSELF) and never discuss the with anyone, "Do not touch it! To do so is shameful. I found myself reliving childhood trauma and humiliation from wondering what was wrong with me that I was so curious about the forbidden topic of sex and genitalia. 

Never having shown it to myself, much less another woman, this experience was terrifying. Actually, only the resistance to show it to another woman was terrifying.

It was my resistance to sharing that part of me, which nature so freely, so unapologetically, so unashamedly shares with us in every way in every place, that created the self hatred experience leading to me pressing "send." Why? Because we call it "beautiful" in nature. And we call it everything BUT when it's attached to the human body.

Fairies, flying, wings … three of my descriptors.