No Offense Patty

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Dear Osphena,

I’m a fun, fit, fabulous women in Menopause. I live in a big city and do active things. I don’t have a husband (I turned him in a decade ago) or one specific boyfriend. I’m on a dating website, I’m social, and I travel all the time. I like men and sex. I do not look like a lunch lady or an overweight suburban mom. I also don’t look like the over sexualized women in your former commercial. Those poor women trying their hardest to look sexy always reminded me of an aged-out brothel workers showing off their assets in the hopes of catching a client’s attention. I don’t know if that’s just my sick mind, your dumb ad, or exactly what you had in mind when you were sitting around a large conference table brainstorming how you could sell women more prescription pills. How embarrassing for these poor actresses who made those ads. I’m sure you paid them well but not well enough for those few moments of humiliation.

Equally as awful is your new spokesperson, Patty, and her sad little life. Actually, the Patty commercial is even more offensive for a few reasons. You should know that most of us don’t want to envision Patty and her husband in bed in that ugly suburban cape in a bed far too small for the two large bodies (yes, I have decided Patty’s husband is also very overweight because he hasn’t been having sex with Patty he’s been frustrated and drinking Pabst by the six pack and eating processed food including hot dogs, Wonder Bread and Cheese Whiz).

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And if I’m mistaken and Patty’s husband isn’t overweight (or addicted to crap) he’s probably been hanging out getting lap dances in the local strip club. I’ve got news for you, in either case, he’s most likely not interested in Patty and hasn’t been in a long, long time. There are going to be a lot of lonely women with hopes of rekindling a romance that burned out long ago because of your commercial. I think Heidi Fleiss needs to get her ass in gear and open that Stud Farm she’s been promising to in Vegas. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m judgmental (I am) I just feels like you’re setting up a lot of women for a huge disappointment.

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I will say I’m glad you got the conversation started but I’m not happy how Osphena is presenting women. Please stop talking to the men at the ad agency you’re working with or the tween branding team that knows nothing about menopause or grown up women. It’s insulting to viewers to think the average American woman is a morbidly obese and white. Although I am white on the outside, many of us are not Patty.

file_104293_0_100721-woman-yogaAnd to your star:

Dear Patty,

I’m sure you’re a lovely woman. I hope you have a husband who cherishes you and still wants to get it on with you, with or without Osphena. This is just not a conversation I want to have with you. I want to see a woman more like me representing the brand.

Love,
Tiny

P.S. #NoOffensePatty

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up with String

 

Hot Dogs on the GrillSo I followed the advice of my gynecologist (if you missed my post about him here’s the link http://worldssmallestvagina.com/2015/10/22/the-d-word/) I ordered both a dildo and a bottle of lube.

My parcel arrived! With a mix of excitement and anxiety I stared at the box and realized excitedly that the contents could be a game changer for me. Yet at the same time I was scared.  A working vagina would mean I was ready for sex again. Ready for sex again would men dating. Dating would mean I was ready to attempt to have a relationship. Relationships scared me. After a very ugly divorce and a very painful on-and-off boyfriend situation I was afraid. My heart could only take so much. I was brave in every other area of my life. Love was frightening.

Charm_f110x147_1421201154I opened the card board box that said CHARM 1 Dildo and had a graphic of the purple, hook shaped device on it. I looked it over and flexed it back and forth. It reminded me of a purple uncooked hot dog. Thinking of it as food made it seem a little friendlier. With visions of B-B-Qs and picnics I read the package: “Charm’s extended length offers extra inches for those who prefer a longer reach. Made from 100% recycled silicone. (I couldnt help woder what had been recylced to make this object I was planning on inserting into my very clean vagina). The thick oval-shaped base makes Charm compatible with a variety of harnesses” Huh??!!! Harness-compatible base? Oh, dear… what was I getting into here. ID-Glide-Lube-Water-Based-645oz_grandeUgh. Why couldn’t I just be “normal”?  I wish I smoked pot. Instead I poured myself a glass of wine and stared at my first dildo.

I put “Charm” aside and took out the bottle of personal lubricant. The bottle was larger than any shampoo or conditioner shampoo I had ever purchased. Is was more like the size of a bottle of bleach. It was time to do this! I put on CNN. I quickly learned that as much as I liked Anderson Cooper he wasn’t helpful. I turned him off and tried to turn myself on but even with a handfull of lube the pain was still there. It felt like I was trying to jam a hot dog into a key hole.

I tried again the next night after a bubble bath and a glass of wine. This time I put John Legend on my iPod. John sure beat Anderson in the sex appeal department but the pain remained. The task of trying to stretch out a menopausal atrophied vag (ryhmes with Madge as in Madonna) was more time consuming and annoying then going to the gym, doing the dishes by hand, or racking leaves.DSC_0480 I tried to be consistent. I wished Sex in the City was still on and one of the girls was struggling with menopause. Or maybe The View could have an segment, or Steve Harvey. Meredith Viera, or Dr..Oz. Better yet Martha Stewart. She was great with step-by-step directions, was the right age and was very confident but alas I was on my own. It made me angry that there wasn’t a service, like a phsyical therapist, but with an expertise in stretching.  Maybe Gwyneth Paltrow would know someone. She has experts for everything! When I realized how weird that would be I felt hopeless. I felt very alone and was convinced my sex life was over.  I was done. And then wouldn’t you know, the next day I met a handsome surgeon from one of the best cancer hospitals in the world. We hit it off. As soon as I got home from the date I dug out “Charm”. With my eye on the prize, the hunky oncologist, I could do this! Fantasizing about Dr. Hotness did nothing for the pain, it was the same. I was convinced I had not stretched anything.  It was time to step up my game.