They told me God was an angry old man who would rather have me dead than happy. They told me I needed to count my blessings, but to keep in mind that I didn’t deserve them. They told me to keep my head down, cover up, don’t laugh so loud, let the boys talk.
My name is Pam, I'm from Mexico City and I suffer from Vulvodynia. If you don’t know what it is don’t worry, most people don’t. But, if you want to learn about something that affects 6 million women’s lives in the US alone, you should keep reading.
Six years ago in the depths of winter, I was waiting for an Uber ride outside the Mall of America in Minneapolis, fanning myself in 20-degree weather. The elderly woman next to me, looking confused, asked if I was hot. She held her jacket tightly as she looked at me strangely, as if I were an extraterrestrial.
