My vagina didn’t become important until I realized I wasn’t a woman. As a woman, no one cared about my vagina unless they wanted to play with it or I wanted to run for office. But once I told everyone that I’m not a woman – well everybody wanted to get all up in there. They wanted to poke and prod and prove it was still there. They wanted to make sense of me, to categorize me, and my vagina was the key to the mystery.
I never wanted to define myself by way of my vagina. I want to define myself by my work and the people I love and the fact I play video games and how I love ice cream despite the fact it makes my stomach hurt that when people break my heart I respond by my dying my hair and crying while eating ice cream.
But so many people want to define me by my vagina for me. “You’re a woman,” they tell me, “you have a vagina, so you are a woman!” And they’re wrong! They’re wrong. I tell them I am no more a woman than my father was. “So are you a man?” they ask. No, I’m no more a man than my mother was. “So what are you?” They ask. And I tell them I’m me. “But you have a vagina,” they say. “You have a vagina.”
And I don’t owe them this explanation but they won’t let up on the topic of my vagina until I tell them look, my vagina is an organ. I understand why some of you are so loud and proud about your vaginas but to me it is a group of muscles and flesh and nerves and juices that will be with me whether or not I’m a woman.
The next question is inevitably “do you want to get rid of your vagina?” No, no I don’t. I don’t hate my vagina. It’s fine, I don’t mind it. Sure, it’s annoying when it bleeds but it’s fun when I play with it and I like it well enough. But it’s not a question of whether or not I have or want my vagina. There are women with and without vaginas. There are men with and without vaginas. There are people with and without vaginas. Some people want vaginas and some don’t and some would like to gain or get rid of their respective vaginas. I am a person. Not a man, not a woman, I am me. And what is in my pants does not change that.
I don’t meant to bash vaginas, far from it. My girlfriend has a beautiful vagina and I love that vagina. I love every vagina I’ve ever come across. Vaginas are wonderful in every form they appear in! We should celebrate vaginas and women alike but vaginas do not equal womanhood. I love vaginas and I love women and those are two separate things.
I am not my vagina. My vagina is not a woman’s vagina. It is my vagina. Now stop asking about it.
Parker Diaz is a genderqueer lesbian currently attending the University of Richmond. She/ze studies queer history and creative writing, and enjoys combining her two loves to create art. Predominately a playwright, Diaz also writes short stories and poetry.