When a woman has trouble reaching orgasm with a partner, it’s an opportunity to find some independence. Time to get that mirror, peer at the pussy, grow familiar and stay a while. Start by inspecting the folds, creases, and then what lies in between. Make like a mechanic and take an especially good look under the hood. There she is- the only organ in any body designed solely for pleasure- the clit. Ta dah! She’s a mighty engine with as many revs as you’ll allow, once you give up the idea that those insistent rumblings signify that something is wrong.
We live in a culture that tells us vaginas are dirty, scary, or smell bad. We call it “down there,” are marketed sprays and powders that cause the odors (or cancer) we fear, when often just a capsule of boric acid would restore the natural tang. We hide our sanitary products- even their name “sanitary” – as if a little endometrial lining were so hideously unclean it must be sterilized out of existence. (It’s fine if period sex not your thing, but worth knowing if that revulsion is actually yours, or something bequeathed to you by people who hate sex because they don’t know what it is.)
Until recently, all pussy hair had to be removed, by razor, wax, or electricity zapped into the follicle. Thank god for millenials and the recycling of fashion, pubic hair is back, baby, and boy is your bush grateful! But with it also the rise of the worst statistic ever, labiaplasties, as suckers fall for the idea that unique and varied pussy lips should have some kind of “tucked in” appearance because self-hatred sells! There’s one born every minute- so why not choose to see the medicalization and otherization of your cunt for the PT Barnum hucksterism it is?
Then there’s how we expect it to behave- wet, tight, and pliant, or else disciplined, cool, and well-behaved- depending on who’s asking. We assume and expect her to comply, so the game is stacked. When your brain is turned on, but the pussy isn’t wet, it’s called “arousal noncorcordance” and it’s incredibly common. When the spirit is willing, but the flesh is dry, what matters is having the courage to grab a little of that bedside lube and help her, the same way you would take a sip of water before you knew you had something important to say.
I know many women and men don’t like the “c” word, or use it as a pejorative, but I adore it. Having a cunt is just splendid in my personal experience, as is the ability to sometimes be one (judiciously, when necessary.) For many of us lucky enough to have a cunt are not so lucky, including those trans folk who seek to have a vulva because it feels right. Many of us vulva-havers have to pay (even as we’re not properly paid) with abuse and commonly our lives. Misogyny is just fear of the cunt, which is just fear of life itself, by seeking to eradicate its origin.
Being an independent cunt means understanding no one owns what is between your legs, unless it turns you on to think that way, in which case by all means, be as OWNED as you’d like. If you’re in some form of D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationship, where you crave to be “property,” to “submit,” or be “used,” these can only add to your power. As long as you get that your sexuality is yours, you can hand it over wholeheartedly to someone you trust to keep for a little while.
Your partner doesn’t take your sexuality with them in a little box when they go away, leaving you to pine and wait for them to bring it back for you to open and enjoy again. If you don’t currently have a regular person to bang, it’s not limbo, but a chance to come home to yourself. Your sexuality is always your responsibility and your prerogative to play with as you please. They call masturbation self-love, but even if you don’t love yourself perfectly yet, start with self-awareness. Knowing how to hold space for your full presence, so that even when a partner is present, you can be present enough to cum. It takes practice, and it starts with a profound noticing of self.
Become so very familiar with your cunt that no one can tell tales on her out of school. Spend some time figuring out how the clit wants to be touched, hard or soft, direct pressure or indirect, and how it varies on different days, or when another mood strikes, without making any assumptions at all. Allow her the dignity to behave however she will on any given day, depending on hormones, kids, or a million other things, even if she seems capricious. Honor her whims, without indulging her fears. You can be her Daddy or her Mommy, but mostly be her ride-or-die-best-bitch-for-life.
You won’t be so afraid of your cunt’s hunger rumbles, once you know how to feed her yourself. You have on your person the [free] opportunity to bask in the awesome power of the pussy. And in this cunt’s humble opinion, that’s where true independence lies.