The Growing Rage

“The Growing Rage”
inspired by My Angry Vagina by Eve Ensler

This was supposed to be a good week, one where she would have growing happiness and contentment. Though it did have one planned setback. It was Kris’s week off from work. She’d have time with her husband, time with her daughter, time for her friends.

It was just supposed to start with a routine appointment to her OBGYN.
The thought sent her body into a pained, tense clench. Those appointments were never pleasant, no matter what the cause of the visit was. They should find a way to make them less uncomfortable, she thought bitterly as she pulled a light dress over her head.

She headed down the hall, towards her little girls room. That girl was a part of the light and joy in her life. A beautiful person, and a beautiful reminder of how amazing her own body is. Standing over the crib, she smiled serenely at her sleeping daughter.

“You’re gonna be amazing, blueberry,” she murmured softly. “You are gonna be strong, and powerful. You will be whatever it is you want. Anyone who tells you that you are less, you will not believe. I won’t let you.”

The doorbell rang. Rushing to the door, she let in her nanny. Kris gave brief, hurried instructions before grabbing her keys, purse, and a light jacket. After a quick glance towards her daughter’s bedroom door, she left her apartment.

****

The drive to the doctor’s office was normally only 20 minutes. It was a usually uneventful experience, with the radio deafening her ears with classic rock. She’d sit silently. bobbing her head in tune with the music, intent on only arriving at her destination. Today’s drive was no different, with the exception of the anxiety knot growing near her stomach. She stiffly exited the car, staring up at the doctors building with intense dislike. As soon as she entered the building, she let the assistant nurse know she was there, and sat to wait until her name was called.
Another mother sat across from her, with a young son and teenaged daughter sitting next to her. The teenager was loudly pleading with her mother, while the son swung his feet back and forth.

Kris promptly tuned out whatever the girl was saying, letting her eyes rove the pale, faded pink walls of the waiting room. One wall contained two generic, motivational posters with cats on them, that Kris scoffed at. The other wall had a window overlooking the city, and teasing her with the bright, sunny day outside.
I could be out there. I could be out with my girl in a park, laughing and enjoying myself instead of in here waiting to have crap put in me.

The boys loud sigh drew her back towards the small group across from her. Kris watched as he glared and rolled his eyes at his sister, failing to be able to ignore his sisters voice. His sister was oblivious to her brothers glaring, and continued to argue with her mother.

“It’s so unfair. I am the only one. I just want a thong. One measly lil thong. The world won’t explode if I have one”

“I said no.”

Kris shook her head in partial disgust, catching the mothers eye. The two mothers looked across the room at each other, sharing an exasperated look as the girl declared the whole thing a total injustice, that would soon result in her actual death.

Those have to be one of the worst pieces of clothing ever invented, Kris thought angrily as listened to the girls continued outcries. They are tight, don’t give that area breathing room.. and the wedgies. Oh lord that string digging its way into my ass… scrunching itself against me and crusting over…

“Kris? The doctor will see you now.”

Kris got up, sparing a sympathetic glance at the other mother and her son before following the nurse down the hall into an examination room. Her vitals and weight were taken . Before the nurse left the room, she handed Kris a gown to change into, and told her to strip completely before putting the gown on then to wait on the bed.

The gown was made of paper, scratched at her nipples and all around uncomfortable. Kris rubbed her breast softly, trying to find ways of easing her discomfort. The doctors presence did nothing to help that. He unfolded the metal stirrups at the end of the bed while questioning her about her general health

“Last period?”

Three weeks. I’m expecting it within this coming week.”

“Any unusual pain or discomfort while urinating?”

“No.”

“Good. Place your feet in the stirrups and get as close to the edge of the bed as you can. And please, relax.”

Kris did her best to comply. When she wasn’t close enough to the edge, the doctor gently grabbed onto her sides and pulled her closer. She laid on her back, completely exposed to her doctor. He made the usual, everything looks good comments before starting to pull out the instruments necessary for the exam. Kris clenched at the sight of the duck lips designed hold her open.

“Relax. It’ll make it go easier,” explained the doctor, picking up that dreaded tool.

Does he realize what he’s saying?

He squirts lubricant onto the tool. She warily eyed it, as it glinted against the fluorescent light above them.

“It might be a little cold,” he says before abruptly inserting the lips inside her.

It takes everything Kris has to not yelp at the shock of cold metal against hot flesh.

“Please relax.”

How can I relax? How the fuck can I relax. You just shoved a cruel, mean instrument that hurts. That’s holding me open so you can shove more things in me and make me hurt. For what? So you can examine my insides. So you can look into my vagina and tell me what you see?

The doctor flips a small light onto his head, poking her inside with a small wooden stick.

“Do you use a douche at all?”

“No. My vagina can clean itself. That’s part what it’s meant to do. I don’t need to clean it more, or try to make it smell like anything other than what it is.”

“Good. Not many women know that.”

10 tortuous minutes later. It’s finished. She leaves the office, sore and feeling a growing rage within her entire body, eager to return home to her little girls smile. Her little reminder. Her little miracle. Nothing can get her there fast enough.

She gets home and lets the nanny go. The rest of her day is spent watching her girl smile, encouraging her to learn all she can in that day. Encouraging her to be independent. Encouraging her to grow.

***

The rest of her week was pleasant. She and her husband had taken their daughter to the gardens, beach and local museums. She had had dinner with her friends three of the nights. Her period had started. She had scoured the supermarket searching for something comfortable to use. When that failed, she had grabbed her box of usual tampons. This is not what I want for me. This is one of the worst fucking things on the planet. This is not what I want for my girl. These wads of cotton are not the experience I want my child to have.

Her anger had only grown.

It was her last day of vacation for work. She chose to celebrate it by calling the nanny so she, her husband, and their best friends, Amy and Randal, could go out for one last night of drinks and dinner.

Throughout the course of the evening, Kris’s anger grew. They had talked about movies, how it was inappropriate when a woman was shown being pleasured. That a woman’s pleasure automatically made the movie rated R, while a man’s was more acceptable. They had talked about the options women had in terms of keeping healthy, and comfortable while doing so, compared to what men. The husbands did not see how it was unfair, that difference. Amy did not fully understand the complaints that Kris had made. The doctors did what they could. Women’s bodies needed to be suppressed to keep with the social norm.

Kris was livid, but it was more than just her mind. Her body screamed in rage at the treatment those she had closest to her believed. That for any aspects of being tortured and in pain, any suppression of any part of her. It made her furious.

So she opened her lips, and began to speak.

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