Dear Pussy,

My yoni,

I’m sorry I didn’t really feed you earlier in my life. But I’m a late bloomer. As much as I enjoyed being with just you in my earlier years and discovering you, I hadn’t fully appreciated you until I met my first boyfriend. You are not just a part of me that feels good. You are a part of me that helps me to connect with him. Someone I love and trust.  I love letting him discover you. I love it more so than when I was discovering you for myself. Why is this?

I had associated you and our related desires with shame. With my particularly deviant desires and fantasies. My deviancies came from my fear of intimacy. Such separate fantasies that kept you and me from even thinking of coming with someone I love.  My mother scared you and I away from getting close with others. She had once dominated my life as my lack of self-awareness and lack of assertiveness allowed. But you and I went away from home to college and got educated.
At my first college party you and I dirty danced with a random boy for the first time. After the song was over I literally fled in fear as I wasn’t even drunk and we both wanted him really badly. My first Halloween at college, I had my first kiss. The guy liked me, but I didn’t like him back. Another college party, I touched a guy’s penis for the first time. I felt like I was touching a weird, slimy alien I met on Mars. He touched me and I chuckled. It didn’t feel good, it just felt funny. I liked him but he didn’t like me.

I met my current boyfriend a year and a half after my first kiss. As we spent time together things became heated. The Halloween of my third year at college we had our first kiss.  After less than a year, you and I both fully wanted him. Both really, really desired him. I was going crazy. And most importantly, by this point, I knew I needed him. I knew I loved him. He whispered “I love you” into my ear. I whispered it back. That night we both tried to have our first time with each other. I was scared and you were dry and in pain. I began to sob in frustration, pain, and embarrassment. But I loved him. We tried again the next night, and it didn’t hurt.

It was awkward for awhile. Sometimes I wanted to stop doing everything physical. It didn’t even feel that good. I didn’t like having his face right in front of mine. He could read everything I was thinking: both good and bad. He could observe every face I made. That of discomfort. That of awkwardness. That of pain. That of pleasure. Faces no one had ever seen me make before. I was so self-conscious. But luckily you kept me going back for more. It began to feel really nice. You helped me feel good and more comfortable with it all. I moaned in pleasure. But something still came between him and me. I hadn’t orgasmed with him. My deviant fantasies and my fear of intimacy kept me from sharing my full pleasure with him. I was still afraid to truly connect with him. To really let myself go.

I struggled many a night with just you trying to change my deviant fantasies when I touched you, my yoni. Finally one night I orgasmed when thinking of him. I almost told him on the phone but I was too scared. (I still get a shiver down my spine when I think of telling him.) It revealed too much of myself. But it was progress.  We both had sex on a chair. In the campus study room. I’m sure I came. I realized I was lost in my own pleasure. No thoughts of how I looked to him at all. This is the beginning of something really great.

I really love you, my yoni. I want to thank you for bringing me closer to my boyfriend. I also want to thank you for helping me conquer my fears of intimacy by kindling my desire. I would have ran away if you didn’t demand for him. You are an amazing part of me and because of you I can love my boyfriend more deeply and with more trust than anyone else I know. You are beautiful and I’m so grateful you are a part of me.

Love,
The rest of you.

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