Born Without a Vagina

I was born without a vagina. See it's easy enough to say but it isn't as easy to explain. People want to know how it was possible, what was wrong, when did I find out? Am I part man, inter-sexed, a hermaphrodite?

It is easy enough for me to explain that my oxygen supply was cut off for a period of time (probably the umbilical cord twisted) and it happened at the moment of time when my body was forming openings and closures when I was about 6 weeks old in my mom's belly.

It's the time during gestation when gender is determined, and sometimes it gets messed up. Like a cake that doesn't rise because the oven door was opened, or rice that is uncooked because the cover was lifted, that's kind of what happened to me. I wasn't fully cooked.

It is easy for me to tell people I was rushed in for surgery at age 13, because I was in agony, passing out from the pain of having my period for several months with no way for it to escape my body.

I can also talk about the fact that I woke up after surgery, a completed woman. A few slices with a knife, over 300 stitches, and there I was, ready to be a sexual being.

The doctor explained in vague terms that this might mean I couldn't have children, but I still would be able to perform as a wife.

The physical problem was rectified but really the emotional scarring was invisible and caused a lot of problems for me and my family. Going through the ordeal and subsequent physical therapy of dilation messed me up. But it wasn't like I could go to school and talk about how uncomfortable I felt masturbating on the bathroom floor trying to dilate my vagina.

Secrets

Sexual disorders are things that are not discussed. They make people uncomfortable. It is not easy to explain that while I was born mostly woman, I always felt more like an "it".

At 15, sex became a hobby for me - something I would do for fun, with anyone and everyone to make sure my vagina didn't close up. I threw away those plastic dildos- I never wanted to see them again.

I acted more like a male than a female, marking the notches in my belt for the conquests I had made. Where my girlfriends were looking for love, I was seeking abuse, pain and humiliation - it was what I felt comfortable with. I became detached emotionally and learned how to compartmentalize my life. Work and sex, all other activities became secondary.

MRKH

In the last three months, at the age of 45, I've finally found someone else who understood. Esther Morris wrote the Missing Vagina Monologue, and through her words, I began to understand my own feelings around my surgery and condition, but more importantly, I realized I'm not alone.

There is at least one other person on this planet that knows how I feel, and there may be a bunch more (1 out of 5000) that can't talk about what they've been through because society and religion tell them they are sinners, they are less than, they are not equal or normal.

Birds of a feather

As I look back on my life from the time I turned 13, I see now that all of my best friends were adopted, sexually abused, emotionally neglected or were people who felt abandoned or somehow unworthy.

Many had good experiences along with the terrible but there was something in their past that made them feel guilty -something that was embarrassing, mortifying, traumatic, inexplicable or excruciatingly painful. They had something in their lives that they couldn't talk about- they had secrets too.

Deadly secrets

Some of my friends and family have punished themselves their whole lives for things that happened in their childhood or young adult life. They harbor these secrets in silence, feeling guilty, feeling worthless, unable to rectify the emotions they feel with the actions that were taken. You can see the pain in their eyes, in their faces, in their demeanor. Some are seeking that magic pill, or high that will somehow miraculously make everything all right again. But no pill can undo the damage that we do to ourselves by keeping these secrets inside.

Fighting back

I didn't realize until I read Ester's website on MRKH that my anger and depression stemmed from my feeling alone and feeling like I couldn't talk about my issues. I didn't want people to feel sorry for me, or to point fingers and talk about me behind my back. I certainly didn't want to face rejection so it seemed easier to just keep those secrets and live alone with them. Unfortunately, the fact of the matter is, people talk, others listen, some will reject, and I have no control over it.

What I do have control over is letting those secrets out so that they don't kill me. And perhaps, just maybe, by sharing my secrets with others, they will help someone else giving them an inspiration for them to let their secrets out, too.