A Beating Heart
A poem about miscarriage: A bleeding vulva episode.
4 a.m. bird baths in tiny pools of rejected child birth.
this child was created a ghost
only to be seen in dreams,
and spiraling down toilet rings.
I held baby so fragiley day after day
wiping her from my blood stained labia and thighs.
I think she may have had her father's eyes.
A perfectly functioning body,
just a reflection of unborn lies.
Hips too narrow to bare life.
I heard your heart beat,
laying my head to rest,
on your daddy’s strong chest and cried.
Long dead before you were due to be alive.
Wish I could have met you,
said I love you and Goodbye.
Know I can’t wait to hold you in the spirit life.
—Anonymous Participant
Photography by Barry Toranto
When I was younger, I felt very tormented about virginity as a value. I'd like more body- mind-and-heart harmony. My mind-heart and body are often at war. Society’s coercive messaging about what the female body should be caused my body dysmorphia. I became a biology teacher and felt responsible for appropriately teach youth about the human body, and importantly the female body and reproductive parts in a way which depicts it to be what it is—a tremendously strong and muscular part of the body which can bring life and pleasure.
—Anonymous Participant
Photography by Sophie Spinelle and Carey Lynn Fruth
I lost my virginity to my boyfriend in high school. He told me it would be his first time, too. I trusted him. We made “love” a few times after that and soon I would start breaking out into ruby-red blisters. After an embarrassing doctor’s visit with my mother, I told my boyfriend I had herpes. The next thing I know, my whole class found out. I hated my vulva. It took me years to embrace its beauty and all its petals and colors.
—Anonymous Participant
Photography by Julia Comita
My Vagina is a mixed bag of everything: misconceptions, sadness, love, pleasure, trauma, pain, blood, juice, fullness, smooshedness . . .
I also feel as though it holds the feminine energy which forms a web to catch things, which is also known as deep intuition. I feel so deeply, and trust my intuition to sense danger, intentions, the truth, and more.
I feel like the spider in the center.
- Anonymous Participant
Photography by Julia Comita
The Body is Not An Apology is an organization focused on radical self love and body empowerment as a tool for social justice and global change. Our work reminds us that as we make peace with our own bodies we create the possibility of making peace with all bodies, thus leading toward a more just, equitable and compassionate world. This project felt directly in alignment with that vision.
This image was created to highlight the censorship and hypocrisy of Facebook's posting policies, particularly against my organization, The Body is Not An Apology, as Facebook regularly censors women's bodies while allowing sexist pages to stand unchallenged.
—Anonymous Participant
Photography by Sophie Spinelle
As a neurosurgeon I have found much strength as a woman. However, it took years. I had to build myself up and become financially stable after med school. I worked so hard to find my place in the medical field. I found my sweet spot after years of working hard and trying to prove myself . I won! When I started off in med school the field was predominantly men with a sprinkle of women. To me, my vulva is a brain: smart, driven, and the container of my mind. A very powerful place.
- Anonymous Participant
Photography by Julia Comita
I have no idea how old I was, teen years or adolescence. I lived in the suburbs. We had private bedrooms and full length mirrors. And it made me worry, given that I don't look like the women I've seen portrayed as beautiful in pornography. It fed into my eating disorder and shyness, the doubt of being loved. Because, in this country, to be beautiful is to be loved. And that is an impossible standard. I suppose I do regular vaginal checks as part of hygiene. My vagina reminds me of loneliness, vulnerability, and being objectified. As a former porn star, I let go of a life where I felt like a piece of meat . . . or a dinner plate. I had many body issues stem from this, and I compared myself to other women in the industry. I used to think it looked too wrinkly. I don't think about it much anymore. But, until about two years ago, I thought about getting vaginal resurfacing to have prettier labia. This often surfaces and is still a sore spot I am trying to heal.
—Anonymous Participant
Photography by Julia Comita
From age seven to nine, I was sexually violated by my grandfather. My older sister didn't believe me. Sometimes I would try to run away or act like I was busy, but usually I couldn't escape it. Meanwhile, I was learning how to play the cello, an instrument my parents picked for me. I played the cello to find peace during these sad times. Today, I play for the New York Philharmonic, and my healing stays alive through my music.
—Anonymous Participant
Photography by Julia Comita
I have been engaged in an ongoing process of reclaiming my sexuality and power, and the vulnerability of this project speaks to me because I imagine it will offer further opportunities to examine any shame that I/we as women have about our intimate and sacred body parts. I have a theater project right now that centers around the labyrinth as a metaphor for the liberation of creativity. I expect that it will bring insight about the ways in which I may feel some shame about my body that I am not fully aware of. I hope that it will empower me to see my vulva as a place of power and beauty, even more than I already do! I intend to release shame to embrace being seen. I release fear to embrace power. I release judgment to embrace creativity.
—Anonymous Participant
Photographed by Julia Comita