Day -21: I love you. And Vaginas.

There she sat, in her clear 40 year old elegance, as she browsed through the spa catalogue at images of bejewelled vaginas. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking quizzically at the various templates, trying to select the one best for her. 

And there I sat. 

Across from her. 

Waiting to get my eyebrows done so that I could look like less of a man on Valentine’s day. 

One of the aestheticians or vagina beautifying experts – if you will – gently placed their palm on her shoulder. 

“Have you selected yet?”

“Yeah, I think I’m going to go with the Canadian Flag – the red and white will definitely fit with Valentine’s Day.”

My eyebrows shot up in amusement. 

I really need to stop listening to these conversations. 

“Are you completely hairless or would you like us to wax it all off?”

We both cringed. 

The way men cringe when they picture the mental image of a baseball flying at full velocity towards their balls. 

Here I was. On Valentine’s Day. In Edmonton. Canada. 

And here she was – about to get waxed and super glued with gem stones – on her vagina. 

This is love. 

In rural Egypt and most parts of Cairo, before a woman’s wedding night, the bride celebrates with her female family members and friends by getting a Brazilian. Loud music blares from speakers as an older member of the family usually prepares the hot wax. And then the star of the show – the crown jewels so to speak – makes her bold entrance. For everyone to see.

No martinis.

No absinth. 

No date rape drug or anything to help her forget. 

In a moment of what can only be described as complete awkwardness and excruciating pain, she exposes her woohoo for all to see. Shriek after jovial shriek, family and friends watch as the beautician grooms the bride till there is no more. Years of hair accumulated, never removed, get ripped off in swift sweeps. Each yank is received with cheering as they help the woman in stirrups become the best she can be for her groom. 

This is love. 

I get called into my appointment as Shelini – the woman that does my brows- gently plucks and waxes away the flaws. She tells me how her husband is taking her out to dinner and a movie, and she is excited. 

This is love. 

I stride out into the mall and there I see jewellery stores filling with men, flower shops eagerly trying to push orders, and couples holding hands. 

There is love. 


I go home. 

I lounge in my office chair – when I receive a text. 

“get dressed.”

I slip on a black dress and red shoes. I walk downstairs and hear the sound of waves crashing.  I walk through the darkness to find dinner set for two. The same exact dinner we had our first Valentine’s Day together back home. 

He remembered. 

He knew I was homesick – he brought me home. 

This is love. 

Love is everywhere. 

Sweet Dreams World. 

Happy Valentine’s Day. 






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52 replies

  1. Ha, for a reader that never comments (myself) let me tell you that this was heart warming for this cold hearth of mine. Today you changed my faith.

  2. I do not understand vajazzling. I would rather go full on 1970s hairy Playboy than have a stranger turn my business into a flag. It is patriotic, though.

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