So I went and watched the Vagina Monologues last night. I think I had probably wanted to see that show since I knew exactly what a vagina was. (Suffice to say long enough). But for whatever reason this was the first time I saw it. Maybe it was my mood, maybe it was my crappy nose-bleed seats, maybe it was the acting but I did not enjoy it. And when I think about why I didn't really enjoy it, my mind keeps jumping to the content.
The thesis of the Vagina Monologues is to share stories, young and old, funny and sad, of women and their vaginas. The show ranged from stories about menstruating to rape, a considerable range of topics for an audience to take in.
And that fact, that there really is such a range of topics about women and their vaginas, was the first problem with the show. How do you transition from pubic hair to losing your virginity, to being a woman who's never climaxed? Not possible. Vaginas are just too complex. It'd be like a play about trees. A Christmas tree is very different from a palm tree and those are very different from a sycamore. Every woman's vagina is different, every one has a different story.
The next was the theme of the show. This love your vagina because it is who you are theme. A lot of the monologues ended with I love my vagina because it is who I am. When I think about the shows content, besides being too broad, I can't separate that theme from the show. And I so don't agree with that.
I am not my vagina. I am not defined by this weird, pink orifice below my waist. For a few reasons the first of which is the simple fact that I am who I choose to be. I didn't pick out my vagina. I didn't choose to have one, or even have the one that I have. I pick what I do to it, what other people do to it, how I react to it, how I adorn it, etc and in that sense I choose who I am. But don't tell me I am my vagina, because that is out of my hands. That's as bad and backwards as saying you are your skin color. Hello?? What's the difference. No one can choose to be white or be black or whatever. You can't say well, you are your race. No. We have made significant steps to ending that thought pattern-- that should be no different in regards to sex organs.
I am NOT my vagina. I refuse to be seen as a sexual being. I refuse to be seen as a birth canal. These are the things that have caused every backwards belief about women from women as commodities in strip clubs to woman as solely child rearing entities. I'm not just an object that at the end of the day was made for fucking, excuse my French. I am a complex system, not only made up of other body parts, but who have power, significance, and intelligence; intelligence enough, at least, not to reduce myself to defining myself as my sex organ.
I am NOT my VAGINA. And no woman should ever have to resort to loving herself because of her vagina. Love yourself for your spirit, love yourself for your creativity, love yourself for anything you like. But accepting your vagina is not the same as accepting yourself.
Sure vaginas can be weird. Weird to talk about, weird to think about. Weird to look at. Weird in almost any way, really. And it's great that the people of the Vagina Monologues are proponents for getting beyond this weirdness and coming to love your vagina; even demanding others to love and respect your vagina. That is wonderful. But I cannot ignore the fact that at the end of the night their message was YOU are YOUR vagina.
When I went to the Vagina Monologues I was very prepared for a couple hours of hard core feminist ranting. And sure that was seen in many of the monologues, for example "My Angry Vagina" was a perfect example of a crazy feminist tirade. Buuuut it almost wasn't enough feminism. Is that possible? I wanted to hear some CRAZY bitches. If I wrote a play devoted to vaginas I would want passion, romance, drama, horror, tragedy, comedy-- but all of it would be emotional and all of it would be powerful. Impowering. I think part of it was the performance. I mean, I got to give these girls credit, they are dealing with a very sensitive topic, probably trying to be politically correct, and they are just kids. But part of me (my angry vagina part?) wanted them to say screw political correctness-- tell it like it is. And they did, to an extent. But I wanted more.
So those are my thoughts on the Vagina Monologues. If you want to go check it out ever, keep these thoughts in mind. Sure it was thought-provoking, but not really in a good way-- at least in regards to the play. Well, that's it for now folks.
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