They labeled me as the stereotypical NYer curt, abrasive, direct and harsh. I wore the label like a crown. I wore it like armor to protect me. To hide me. My armor will keep me safe. I'm tougher than they are, I told myself.
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.
