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Vaginoplasty and labiaplasty: from someone who’d actually done it

I confess I did it. And I did it for what others may perceive to be shallow reasons. It proved to be the best decision I made last year and never regretted it for a minute.

Folks, I got five kids. Yes, FIVE! That’s how many they are. The last one was born through Caesarean Section. It wasn’t for lack of trying to push my baby out, though. My one and the only boy got his umbilical cord around his foot and leg and he was curled the wrong way; and so every time I tried to push him out, he went back in. And I was getting older at 36 and didn’t have it in me to push some more. I guess my age just got me on this one hence the CS. The point is that although I may have four (still quite a lot) vaginal births, I had also strained my muscle walls from attempting a vaginal birth of my son. And I must admit that aging, multiple vaginal births(no matter that your OB patched you up real good after) and lots of sex throughout your married life ultimately affect and weaken and changed my vagina appearance. Yeah, I know about Kegel exercises, I’ve been doing the exercises since in my twenties until today. Well, it does help tighten those love muscles up but it doesn’t help much with the appearance, does it?

So on February of 2014, I had a laser vaginoplasty. The first time I had sex after the prescribed weeks of no sexual contact was more painful than enjoyable. And there were particular sex positions that were really impossible to do because it hurt like hell. It was like that for a couple of months more. But eventually, man oh man, was the sex getting good. I know, even if my husband didn’t admit wanting me to undergo that surgery, he was and is, enjoying our sex way more than he did prior.

 

 

 

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photo credit to the owner

 

Yes, the procedure is quite pricey, but if you really want something, you’ll find a way to get it done.  I was lucky that I availed of some sort of promo discount of a certain cosmetic surgeon in my country. And I really set aside some money for it too.

I may not have a beautiful body and youth on my side anymore, but the confident sexuality that the vaginoplasty has given me, and years of experience is incomparable. I am way more confident in my femininity and my sexuality now at forty with five children than I ever was before in my early twenties. And you can bet your ass, my husband is reaping and enjoying the fruits of that confidence more so now than he had before.

Of Friends and the Games They Played

The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies. It comes from friends and loved ones.

Ever had a friend who made you a scapegoat to their own follies?  I know I shouldn’t be calling them friends since being made a scapegoat isn’t a trait of a real friend, but you know what I mean.   I was a victim of this so-called friend of mine.Image

I went back to college a few years back as a mature student and it was there that I met Rebecca(not her true name). She was a classmate of mine.  Like me, she was also a mature student, married and with kids. And she and I are the same age. Plus we also live in the same district.  So we hit it right off (or so I thought). We also have the same circle of friends. Although I look way younger and prettier (and I’m saying that without vanity), her glib of tongue and confidence more than made up for her shortcomings.  Don’t get me wrong. She isn’t ugly but she isn’t pretty either. Oh, and she is married into some money. Anyway, when we were in our 3rd year, our mutual friends and I noticed that her absences were becoming frequent and that when she came to class, she was constantly talking on her mobile phone.  Then she shared with us that she had a male phone pal and that they already met in person. We didn’t know the extent of Rebecca and her phone pal’s friendship since we seldom saw her in class anymore. One time she invited us for dinner and a night out at our local go-to nightlife destination.  We went to a dance club after dinner where she promptly left us and had us wait for her until 4 am. She texted us to wait for her and that she’ll be back very soon. Very soon turned to hours of waiting.  She left us at the club before midnight and came back at 4 am. We asked her where she’d been but she just shrugged and gave us a very vague answer.

This continued until one day, Rebecca came to class with swollen eyes. She told us that she was quitting school and that she and her husband were splitting up. We didn’t ask why and we didn’t want to pry. In our minds, we knew this was something to do with her “friendship” with another man.  And she really did quit in the middle of the semester.  We didn’t see her for some time but had some contact with her through text. During one of her texts, we learned that she and her husband reconciled. Good news.  We were happy for her.

The next time we saw her, she was at school to enroll again. And she was like five months on the way. Almost exactly a year she quit going to class. I was on my last term in school and graduating in about a month and a half’s time, doing my internship and was also three months pregnant with my youngest child. I was pleased to see her again.

One time we went to visit Rebecca at her house.  Her husband was there. And he was drunk.  So we didn’t get inside their house and just talked on their patio.  When her husband saw me, he walked toward me in a confrontational manner but Rebecca blocked his path and pulled him inside their house.  We could hear them talking loudly but we couldn’t hear the words they were saying. Until I heard her husband mention my name.  My friends and I looked at each other but shrugged that off.  Her husband was drunk and drunk people sometimes say and do foolish things.

Oh did I mention that Rebecca and I lived in the same district? Oh yeah, I did. Her niece was a schoolmate of my two daughters too until last year.  Anyway, a parent from my two daughters school who I had a hi-hello acquaintanceship came to sit by me one time when I visited my daughters’ school.  She asked me if I was still studying at this university.  I wasn’t surprised she knew where I studied since parents like her who doesn’t have anything to do but wait on their children at school tend to gossip about people especially other parents. After a while and after making some small talk, she leaned over to me with a conspiratorial air and said that there is something I should know.  She then proceeded to tell me that “someone” in school (my daughters’ school)  who knows a  “friend of mine” from my university had told her that I had an “affair”.  She said she decided to tell me because she didn’t think it was true and that I should know what is being said behind my back.  I was STUNNED. I was HORRIFIED. WHAT. THE. HELL. I didn’t even remember what I said to her after what she told me. I didn’t even remember uttering a denial.  But I’m glad she told me.  Whatever her reasons were I was glad she did.

After I got over the shock, realizations did set in. And all the things clicked into place.  I remembered that:

1. Rebecca’s husband seems to want to talk, nay–confront me on something when Rebecca blocked him and pulled him away.
2. I remembered why my then fifth-grade daughter told her closest classmate that she had a secret about me (that secret was about my pregnancy which she considered being wonderful news). Her classmate immediately said that he knew what my secret was and that my secret was that I had a lover. Suffice to say that there was a fight after that. When my daughter went home that day, she told me about it and I remembered telling her to ignore her classmate and that what he said was the result of unmonitored and too much exposure of soap operas at home instead of studying.
3. I remembered that Rebecca’s niece was a schoolmate of my daughters and that Rebecca’s cousin-in-law was one of the parents I just mentioned–parents with having nothing to do but wait on their children at school.
4. That as far as I can remember, the only “friend” of mine at the university who lived in the same part of town is the same person who our classmates, common friends and even teachers knew to have had a “friendship” with another man and that “friendship”  may have been the reason she and her husband separated for a while and why she quit school in the middle of a semester.
5. That I am most likely been made a scapegoat of someone I considered a friend.
6. That the parents on the PTA of my daughters’ school think that I did all that. And that probably account to their fake smiles when I attend meetings.  I thought their fake smiles were because of envy since my daughters are consistent honor students and that my sixth grader just happens to hold the academic number 1 spot since 4th grade and now the valedictorian of her class on her graduation a few days from now.
7. And that it explained Rebecca’s cousin-in-law snubbing me during a chance encounter at a mall when she used to smile and nod at me every time we meet.

I wonder what tales Rebecca spun about me. I wonder what role was I supposed to have been playing in her diabolical scheme of her then marital woes. I really thought she was a friend. Why me? What did I ever do to her?

And since I can’t wheedle the name of the weasel who spread this malicious what consoles me is that my husband and kids know me and know the truth. 

The Night I Dreamed of An Ex

The other night was the night I dreamed of my ex.  I only had three exes in my entire life.  The first one–even with our tumultuous Romeo and Juliet kind-of-thing and a history together– doesn’t even count.  I dreamed of the boy I had fallen for and who had broken my heart.  Although I knew from the start that there wouldn’t be a happy ending for us both, I still plunged in head over heels in “love”. Yet nobody knew the extent of my feelings for him at that time, not even him. But that was a long time ago.   Thirteen years ago to be exact.  I had moved on and moved past from that time of my life and been married for almost eleven years now.  

It was strange to dream of someone I haven’t thought of for years.  Stranger still to feel long ago emotions again where I still feel something for a boy I once loved and gotten over with in that weird dream of mine.  It was like being in that moment where I still loved my ex. But what weirded me out was that in that dream, my ex was as young as when I knew him then and I was like I am now–a woman in her mid 30s–and feeling the same feelings I had for him thirteen years past. Yikes! 

And now after hours from that dream, I’m sort of having a slight hangover. I now wonder what became of him and felt a tinge of sadness for the girl I used to be and the love I once had for him. It’s like I’m feeling the tiniest hint of the past pain when I’m actually really happy and in love with the person I ended up with.  Stupid weird dream that was.

such is life :(

depressing news..and i couldn’t share it to someone i consider the closest person in my life. no sense in saying something when you know this person couldn’t help. i’m all alone with this one and i curse myself for being unable to do anything. the only thing that consoles me–and to me this is undoubtedly the most important–is that it’s not health-related. so i guess i should be thankful for that. what depresses me is that even if circumstances are beyond my control, ultimately, i only have myself to blame. and what is worst is that i may be, albeit inadvertently, be the one to blame for a loved one’s future to change direction. my inability to give of what is asked of me may be the reason for a loved one’s future to shine a little less brighter.

 

“A mother-in-law dies only when another devil is needed in hell. – Francis Rabelais

It’s unfortunate that my husband’s mother took a dislike on me since the day she learned I existed. Since love begets love, it goes without saying that dislike begets dislike too.  It was unfortunate that I was being reviled through text even if I had nothing to do with their situation and I got to read them first before my husband had the chance to delete them. so I fought back with guns blazing

Many years had passed since then. People change, and I know I did.  I’m no longer the hate-filled woman I used to be. I’m no longer bitter as I once were.  I’ve grown. My world is wider now and I see things differently and tolerantly than before. Indeed, wisdom does come with maturity.

 People sometimes blame another for the shortcomings of a loved one. It is, after all, way too easy to hate someone you already disliked than lose faith of someone you love. But all that is water under the bridge already.Now I understand. I accept. And I finally don’t mind anymore.

Grieving For A Beloved

Days fill the mind with many preoccupations but the nights leave the mind free to think… and it is when sadness comes to consume your being.  Yes, there are moments during the day that grief threatens to come to the fore but slips away as worries of the day tend to divert the mind back to the here and now.  It is during the night as the body prepares to rest that the heart makes known the presence of pain and sadness.  Then the tears come.  I grieve for my father and I know I will grieve him until the day I die. I’m missing him everyday.

Let me share with you a quote from Edna St. Vincent Millay that I especially like.

“Where you used to be, there is a whole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around, in the daytime, and falling in at night.  I miss you like hell.”