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.
I guess you could call me muscular. It wasn’t until I was in fourth or fifth grade, when you start that semi-awkward phase before the official puberty-ridden awkward phase that I became less lean and more full. Full breasts, full hips, full legs; I was full or “filling out,” as that antiquated phrase suggests.
