I've had a weird relationship with "down-there" for a while, swinging repeatedly from acceptance to bitterness, dependent largely on 3rd party opinions. For years I have been intermittently ashamed of the odours associated with frequent yeast infections (no doctor I do not douche, yes doctor I wear cotton). In my early teens I even had the fabulous experience of tiny white worms! I have defended myself as male partners dimly implied that my natural creases and loose skin could indicate a "busy [read slutty] past". More positively I have also been with ladies and marvelled warmly at our differences. I love my vulva – from its ingrown hairs, fluctuating smells to its creases and ability to help me feel amazing... so... sod 'em all.

Anonymous – 28 years old