Dinah, as portrayed in The Red Tent, is an empowered and inspiring woman who lived in the age of transformation from a matriarchial tribal society to a patriarchal civilization.
She knows exactly what she wants, and she’s not deterred by any life circumstances that might jeopardize her vision. She also enjoys sex, and even after a traumatic sexual encounter, she stays strong. She eventually finds her way into a mature, healthy, loving, respectful relationship.
She is exactly what I want my pussy to embody.
But I never had any inclination of personifying my pussy.
That is, until very recently, when my partner suggested it.
After all, his dick had a name since childhood. They developed an intimate relationship that I don’t really have with my pussy. She’s always been nameless. Characterless. A mere body part. Although I love her and enjoy her, she stayed anonymous.
It’s no wonder I never felt connected to her, while my man feels a strong connection to his dick.
And before I go on, I have to explain something very important.
Up until now in this article I used the words “Pussy” and “Dick” — these are words I detest. Yes, that’s right, detest.
Call me old-fashioned, I don’t mind, but these words have a strong negative connotation for me. Profoundly degrading.
Too often they are used in depictions of sex that I want nothing of.
In the past, I tried to disarm these words, tried to make friends with them. But to no avail. I still hate using them. And so I do everything I can to avoid them, both in my personal life and in my writing.
From now onwards in this article, you will not read these words again.
However, I’m not even sure what to replace them with.
Let’s start with the P-word.
What do you replace this word with?
Fanny? Cunt? These still sound too derogatory and vulgar for me.
Perhaps Yoni? That’s a bit hippie for my liking.
The English language does not even have a term that depicts both vulva and vagina in one word, which means I am doomed to always call them separately.
Plus “vulva” and “vagina” sound a bit clinical. I’m OK with that. Still, I wish there was a better word to use when I’m having some sexy talk with my man.
Hence naming her is an easy solution.
Let’s continue with the D-word.
There are so many other words I could have used, right?
All of them feel either rude, belittling, or downright silly.
And, once I started calling Dinah by her name, it makes more sense to refer to my man’s penis by his name.
Now talking about Dinah and David*** (name changed for privacy reasons) uniting, giving pleasure to each other, connecting — feels right.
Sure, I’m going to fail the “Dirty Talk” test, but that’s OK, I’m the type of person that never felt comfortable with dirty talk anyway.
Now it feels wonderful talking to my man about Dinah. I can tell him how I long for her to reunite with David, or what I want him to do with her, without using words that make me sound like I’m swearing or like I’m an Ob-Gyn.
Plus, now that Dinah has a name, my relationship with her is deeper and stronger than ever before. She’s not just another body part anymore. She’s a vibrant, giving, receiving part of me, and I feel empowered to enjoy her and please her.