Every year, at nearly every audition for The Vagina Monologues, there is one lone Monologue left, unwanted by all. It’s not a hated monologue. To the contrary, it often raises some of the biggest laughs in the show. But no one wants to take it, because it’s so far out of most people’s comfort zones.
This monologue is, of course, “The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy,” also known as “the moaning one.”
This is my second year performing this monologue. The first year I performed it, I was terrified. Sure, I thought it was funny to make overly exaggerated moaning noises when I was hanging out with my friends. But the idea of doing that on stage? To an audience that included my mother and my grandmother? It was incredibly intimidating.
Just like the narrator of the monologue, I practiced my moaning in a mirror and into my phone’s voice memos. I found them running through my head as I tried to sleep at night. I was so excited and so terrified.
When the night of the show arrived, I was shaking with fear and excitement. This was not a good combination with my seven-inch stilettos. The fact that I only wobbled once on stage is frankly a great accomplishment. But when I performed, I felt so much of the anxiety fade away.
I’m no stranger to performing – I’ve been dancing since elementary school and I dabbled in acting in high school. I really love it, and it’s always been worth the anxiety leading up to the performance. The monologues were the greatest stage fright I’d felt in years, but the result was absolutely worth it.
This monologue opened something in me. I’m not saying it would do that for everyone. But this past year has been one of self-exploration of myself as a sexual creature, and this monologue was an important part of that. I’m sure I would have figured out that I was a big ol’ service top eventually, but I can’t deny that this monologue was a huge part in me figuring it out when I did.
It’s made me confident, more so than I honestly ever thought was possible. People from my good friends to the cousin I see twice a year have remarked that I seem to be carrying myself more confidently. I attribute some of this to my discovery of being a top and that I could own my own sexuality, because my body image issues certainly haven’t improved. The idea of me being a sexual creature was a strange one for a very long time, and I think I may have finally figured out why. I think I only ever considered myself bottoming, and I knew that didn’t feel right. I just assumed that something must be wrong with me. But I’ve finally realized that maybe something isn’t wrong with me.
I still struggle with some internalized homophobia. I think my confidence is impacted by that. I have a lot of trouble letting my feelings known when I think a woman is attractive. It takes me a very long time between having feelings for someone and asking them out. But I used to never let my feelings be known, and I used to never ask people out, so it’s honestly a big improvement.
This monologue taught me that I can be powerful and sexual and fucking own myself and my feelings toward women.
This year, I did the monologue with my best friend (and fellow Her Campus writer). It was incredible. I wasn’t as scared as I was last time, though I certainly felt some stage fright. But as soon as I got on stage, I felt confident. I felt powerful. And together, my best friend and I crushed it.