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My Particular Pussy: A Poetic Plea to End the Silent “No”

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I have a secret to share
Would you like to hear it?

I have a very
Particular
Pussy.

She is a unique little freak
A choosy cha-cha
A selective snake charmer

She has always been picky and persnickety
with a capital “P”
And as for me
listening wasn’t always my best feature
So my pussy took a surprising role as teacher
of what happens when you try to ignore
the signals of harm your body implores

You see
A long time ago,
on the bus ride to school
there was an older boy who quite enjoyed
making me look like a fool
And one day
this boy slid uninvited onto my seat
and made a demand cleverly disguised as a request
Terrified to speak under cloaked duress
my body shouted no! But I still acquiesced
I let him snake his hand up under my dress
and make off with the pearl
of a 6-year-old girl.

And after, I was never quite the same
Wracked with shame, I heaped on self-blame
My dance with desire kicked off much too soon
and to the call of sexuality, I was no longer immune.

As I grew into womanhood I grew to love sex
But kept it precious for a select few
After one cunning lover unloaded me like some forgotten cargo
I embarked upon a path of never quite saying no
Friends touching me while I pretended to sleep
Strangers kissing me without solicitation
without even asking or invitation

Did I express my indignation?
Did I call my own shots?
No, no I did not.

And so, I tread down a slippery slope
of allowing my silence to say yes
when I should have said “nope”.

Why did I ignore my pussy’s pleas
when I was charged with her safekeeping?
For the same reason that so many pussies
go unheard
Because I was afraid
I was afraid that if I said no
at best, I would be scoffed at, or stonewalled, or neglected
and at worst, that my “no” would be wholly rejected.

Now, there was no relationship my particular pussy had with sex
more complex than with one particular ex
Where every time we’d indulge our carnal desires
My urine would turn into streams of fire

Soon I was so afraid of getting sick with the pain
my particular pussy said “no” by tightening and constricting her doors
But I refused to honor the locks on her drawers
Where being stroked once felt like a smooth glide
now felt like hot knives

I did what I had to survive
He coped by building a wall inside
But his need for touch didn’t wane like mine
What once was a pleasure was now a chore
My body shouted, “please STOP…no more”
But we both chose to ignore and ignore
I’d face away to conceal the pain
And the clock would start all over again

And I’d berate her after you traitor, you Judas!
how could you do this, to me, to us?
why are you ruining my life?!
I just want to be the dutiful wife…

But she wasn’t a traitor at all
she just saw a sign
she was the canary in my sacred coal mine
warbling an ominous call
that while it wasn’t his fault any more than it was mine
our house of cards should and must fall

Still, even after we at last parted ways
I treated my pussy as separate, detached, apart
I severed the chord she tied with my heart
I looked at her like corrupted waste
and revolted against her for keeping me chaste.

But why did I do it? Why did I stay?
Where did my courage to say no go astray
Because I believed to my core that no other man
could possibly love me and my
broken, and flawed,
and imperfect
pussy.

Well, I could not have been more wrong
for in my darkest hour, I met with the dawn
I met a man whose soulful gaze thrust me into a haze
A man who ran towards, not away, from my pain and despair
and healed each wound with delicate care
In this man’s heart, there is no wall or partition
He has shown me the meaning of love without condition

And each day as he’d redefine love as I’d know it
I patiently waited for my body to blow it
But his only consternation
Is my self-deprecation of my
pleasure station

And now, owning my no has no consequence
And the safety I feel in his every caress
Gives me the courage to allow her to say yes

And today, she does not just say yes or whisper
She shouts YES PLEASE, MISTER!
Today she is not JUST particular
Today she is alive.
Where once she was bitter and dejected
she is now resurrected

She is alive
She is the embodiment of every feminine divine
She is Isis, Kali, Babalon, Aphrodite
She is the angel and the siren
The goddess and vixen
The beginning and the end
She feels everything
She IS everything
Except for what she is not

She is not simple or basic
She is not broken or flawed
She is not quiet or meek
She is not a receptacle for his release
And she’s not to be ignored ever again
Not by my men, and especially
not by me.

Gentlemen, my pussy and I have a message for you
We know that sometimes you may get confused
about our preferences, our desires, our boundaries too
Your fathers didn’t teach you to read between our lines
or to see between our thighs your portal to the divine

We only ask that when you are privileged to lay with a goddess
that you’ll not only hear with your ears for the “oh, yes!”
but that you’ll listen with your eyes and hearts
for the silent “no”

Now we realize we may be preaching to the choir
But we pray for teaching this would inspire
Teach your sons, your nephews, your cousins, your brothers
Please teach each other
So that the sins of the father no longer need be
the inheritance of one another

Teach to love and accept us just as we are
without that, our courage only goes so far
We promise it’s not to bait you or tease you
It’s simply because we are wired to please you
When our bodies feel at risk to displease
Our software tells us to stop and freeze
But when you give us a truly safe place to say no,
you won’t believe the places we’ll go

And ladies, we offer one simple line
To bravely deliver your entitled decline
When you’re afraid they are crossing your line
Just say, “thank you so much, and, I’m full.”

These are the pleas we impart upon you
They are OUR pleas, for my pussy and I
we are now one, not two
One voice, one heart
She is me and I am her
And each day our mutual love
grows ever deeper

So yeah, I’ve got one Particular Pussy
and she is
a keeper.

Here’s to the end of the silent “no.”

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