I have had an interesting evening out with three of my friends tonight. Admittedly, and somewhat unfairly, I wasn't looking forward to the evening. One of my friends is as miserable as sin. I'd like to say that this is a recent event but retrospectively, she's been miserable for years. One of the problems is that she shares her birthday with Thatcher. Worrying in itself but the fact that she has had very little sex in her life, even though she is not particularly perturbed by this, would appear to be a contributing factor to her general malaise. Her ex husband is a very close friend of mine and I love him dearly but he can be fairly morose too. He is asexual. Yes, I know it seems impossible to the vibrant reader but this man has no interest whatsoever in sex. Apparently. I have known this couple for over fifteen years and in this time they have sex less times than the fingers on my hand can count. True. Not an ounce of emotional intelligence practiced between them. They don't talk. They never have. I have a far more communicative relationship with either of them than they do or did with one another. Needless to say, the decree absolute is in the post.
My other friend is a recovering alcoholic, who has suffered enormously over the last five years in dealing with this horrific illness. She is a wonderful, fun woman to be with when she is sober. Intellectually, she is a classic; not an academic, some swines might even suggest she is academically inept, yet she has a keen intellect, is willing to learn and embraces lifelong learning. Her house is full of books and music and Radio Four. She's happily married and enjoys a good sex life with her partner, who is also an adorable, sweet natured non academic intellectual. Both have enormous capacity to empathise and value the essentials in life. At heart, they are sixties hippies and very wholesome folk.
The fourth member of this motley crew is a very dear and special person. In many ways she is my rock. In times of intense pressure or unhappiness, it is she that I will turn to. She has a social and emotional intelligence that excels many, and she understands me and my general philosophy on life. Needless to say, she is a Midlander. She too has her problems. She is grossly overweight, she has recently had a pacemaker fitted and has diabetes. She worries about everything, even more, if this is possible, than me. Some would say she is over-sensitive, and maybe that is why I love her and why we are so close. Her husband is a lovely man. All of my friends find him exceptionally attractive but I have never really thought so. He is intelligent, intellectual, caring and a generally decent human being. They apparently enjoy a rampant sex life although she admits to wanting sex less than him. They enjoy watching Sexcetera together and play happily with Rampant Roger in bed.
I am giving this background for a reason. I am trying to show a brief insight into these women's lives. I think they are similar to many women out there. The latter two friends are both trained nurses and the friend who is going through a divorce has spent her life as a child minder and now works in a school. Each of these friends have two daughters, the latter having three and a son.
In order to steer the conversation away from the usual monotony, I happened to mention watching "The Perfect Vagina". One friend had watched this programme with her three daughters, banishing the younger son from the room. Her eldest daughter told her brother that it could scar him for life if he watched! Afterwards, they all sat and discussed the programme, and decided that maybe there were some women out there with excessively large and drooping labs, so why not chop them if it made them feel better? The girls then asked their mum about their own bodies. They didn't know what they looked like- a 21, 19 and 16 year old had no idea what their pussies looked like! My friend told hem that from what she had seen, they were perfectly normal. The girls were then all horrified that their mother thought she knew what their fannies looked like, forgetting that at some point, they had all been in nappies and she had dressed them as little ones. She did admit, of course, that their bodies woul certainly have changed shape since then. They then went on to discuss how she had initially helped them with inserting tampons, and again, these three bright young women reeled at the memory. Their private parts, in their opinion, were precisely that.
My other friend listened in fascination. She said that as a nurse she had seen many fannies, and as far as she was concerned, they all looked pretty similar. I suggested that this might not be the case, and maybe our cunts were as unique as our faces. No way, was their response, though my more enlightened friend suggested that externally we may all look relatively similar but if you did dare to take a greater internal look, then yes, we were different.
My other friend sat, listened and then said, "I know I sound naive but what is a labia?"
Oh my! And she has two very beautiful, very sexually active daughters. Please tell me how you can get to the age of 56 and not know what a labia is?
I then went on to explain how four women in the television programme had viewed their own cunts and had then shown them in a joyous embracement of feminine glory to the others. All three let out an embarrassed laugh, shorly followed by an aghast stance at the horror of this. They simply could not imagine looking at another woman's pussy. Never. Why would you want to?
By now, I am beginning to feel like a depraved sexual weirdo, and am assuming that they think the same. Therefore, I thought there was nothing really holding me back. So I launched into my idea that women should touch and feel and know their bodies. I told them that I was thinking of setting myself up as a cunt photographer so that women can know and be happy with what they look like.
And we laugh at the hilarity of the suggestion.
There was an acknowledgement that this could probably help young women to be aware of their own bodies. A thought has just struck me though. If young women did know what their internal parts looked like, and were horrified at the look of them, it may stop them having premature sex!
We left the restaurant discussing whether our internal parts resemble cauliflowers, broccoli or a collection of tomatoes. As ever, the discussion around this type of intimacy creates a wave of laughter which essentially disguises the fact that there is so much embarrassment and lack of knowledge around these subjects. I am laughing for different reasons.
I finished the evening by promising to buy a purple friend for my newly separated friend. She laughed and says she would like that. She has decided that she would like to have some sex toys but believes that it would take a pneumatic drill to get her active again. I told her that everybody can be sexually active and that she will be fine again once she has some appropriate stimulation.
Boy, have I/we got our work cut out in leading women on a road to sexual enlightenment. Each if these women have passed their half centuries and have so much to embrace and learn. It does make you think though. These women are fairly typical of a range of experiences, intelligences, issues that the general public of women have out there. My mission, for want of a better phrase, is to support these women as well as liberating future generations so that they cannot possibly get to the age of fifty unaware of what their bodies look like. It really is a travesty, and one that definitely needs addressing.
S, do you want to help in my mission? I know that personally, you have been doing this for years but there are many out there who are far less enlightened, and like the teacher who doesn't know that they do not understand pedagogy, there are women who do not understand their own needs in relation to their bodies. But I have hope. The teachers and the women have a subliminal understanding that there is so much more to embrace in their worlds, and maybe we can be the people to support their strike for freedom!
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