When I was in college MTV did a special on teens going to the doctor for their private parts. This girl agreed to have her first gyn examination done on camera for all to see.  It got me to thinking that if I’m grown enough to have sex, I need to be grown enough to go to the doctor.

I began going to the GYN sophomore year of college. Every question she asked made me want to crawl under a rock.

“Are you sexually active?”

Uh, yeah. Why else you think I’m here?

“When was the last time you had sexual intercourse?”

(Sidenote: As I write this on my phone a passerby hands me a religious booklet with “Salvation” across the front. SMH)

“How many partners have you had?”

“What form of birth control are you using?”

Early on I would lie. I guess I was ashamed to be having sex at 18. Awww…

I’ve had 6 different GYNs in my sexually active lifetime, three of them for extended periods of time. I can’t live without one.

When I began a new job I asked some of the women if they could recommend a GYN under our insurance. I was floored and disgusted when all three of them told me they don’t go to the coochie doctor.

What?!?!

For the record, I feel the same way about men not going to the dick doctor. Just cause it looks fine and acts fine doesn’t mean its fine.

I talk to my coochie doctor like we’re old friends. I don’t care if she thinks I’m a whore when I ask for the morning after pill. I don’t care if she barely hides her reaction when I tell her how many sexual partners I’ve had in the last 6 months.

It’s her job to treat me.

It’s my job to tell her the truth.

If she can look up my love canal, I can ask her about the effects of anal sex or if sex with a hung man can lead to an UTI (yes, it can! along with sexin’ on a full bladder).

My and my coochie doctor have one of the best relationships. She takes care of me so that I can take care of him.

- SG