How to Properly Care for Your Vulva

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die.Did I ask my mother about this?Oh, hell, NO!I just went around wondering when the pain would start and how long before it got so bad I had to tell someone. Eventually, I didn’t die but it was years before I understood what the discharge was or that it could be off-putting to anyone interested in going down on me.I also stopped using douches as word finally got past the “experts” in advertising that douching was unnecessary and bad.Here’s the exquisitely embarrassing part of all this ignorance and reluctance to talk about bodily matters: I was well into my twenties before I understood that I should simply go to the bathroom and rinse my vulva thoroughly if it’s been a while since I’d showered and before some unsuspecting person was going to have their face between my legs. And this was after boyfriends complained that I wasn’t very “nice” down there.<h2 id="4cc8">I was that clueless</h2>Could I have been the only totally ignorant woman thinking that if douching was bad then not douching was natural and whatever happ

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ened down there was what was supposed to happen? It still hurts to “say” this out loud, but I was going around for years simply expecting partners to accept that certain substances building up in the course of a day in all those delicate little folds of skin were natural and ok. Because I hadn’t yet put my mouth on those pretty folds yet I didn’t know that, while natural, those substances aren’t anything we want in our mouths.Face red, head hanging.I’m probably very late to this party and everyone everywhere already knows this, but there might one or two slow learners like myself out there.Don’t use soap. Don’t douche. Do pop into the shower quickly and rinse that sweet baby nice and thoroughly. Get in there with your fingers and make sure all those folds are clean and ready for pleasure. A bidet would be ideal but this isn’t Europe so just get in the shower. And for the eight other women in the world who hadn’t yet put this together, you’re welcome.The rest of you, please be kind.© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved.</article></body>

Hint: It doesn’t cost any money

Photo Courtesy of Pxhere

Here’s where I learned how to care for my lady bits: television. Remember Summer’s Eve Fresh Scent. Summer’s Eve Sweet Romance. Massengill Extra Cleansing. Mastrelle Flora Plus? Oh, right, before your time.

Well, those brands and dozens more used to line the shelves in the drugstore next to the lady diapers, aka sanitary napkins. And we bought it. Oh, baby, did we buy it. I certainly did because ewwwwwwwwwww!

No one in my family explained anything beyond the basics of using sanitary napkins during “my time of the month” and my mother’s solution to crippling period cramps was a large glass of homemade red wine, room temperature, drink it down fast and go to bed. When I first experienced a discharge during ovulation I was convinced I had cancer and was going to die.

Did I ask my mother about this?

Oh, hell, NO!

I just went around wondering when the pain would start and how long before it got so bad I had to tell someone. Eventually, I didn’t die but it was years before I understood what the discharge was or that it could be off-putting to anyone interested in going down on me.

I also stopped using douches as word finally got past the “experts” in advertising that douching was unnecessary and bad.

Here’s the exquisitely embarrassing part of all this ignorance and reluctance to talk about bodily matters: I was well into my twenties before I understood that I should simply go to the bathroom and rinse my vulva thoroughly if it’s been a while since I’d showered and before some unsuspecting person was going to have their face between my legs. And this was after boyfriends complained that I wasn’t very “nice” down there.

I was that clueless

Could I have been the only totally ignorant woman thinking that if douching was bad then not douching was natural and whatever happened down there was what was supposed to happen? It still hurts to “say” this out loud, but I was going around for years simply expecting partners to accept that certain substances building up in the course of a day in all those delicate little folds of skin were natural and ok. Because I hadn’t yet put my mouth on those pretty folds yet I didn’t know that, while natural, those substances aren’t anything we want in our mouths.

Face red, head hanging.

I’m probably very late to this party and everyone everywhere already knows this, but there might one or two slow learners like myself out there.

Don’t use soap. Don’t douche. Do pop into the shower quickly and rinse that sweet baby nice and thoroughly. Get in there with your fingers and make sure all those folds are clean and ready for pleasure. A bidet would be ideal but this isn’t Europe so just get in the shower. And for the eight other women in the world who hadn’t yet put this together, you’re welcome.

The rest of you, please be kind.