Recently, a group of friends and I produced and directed a performance of Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues. Originally performed as a one-women off-off-Broadway show in the 90’s, this play has evolved into a worldwide, billion-participant movement to end violence against women and girls. It was a humbling and extremely rewarding experience.
There are half a dozen plays that can be used as fundraising vehicles for local violence prevention and education programs, but, as a rule, The Vagina Monologues is to be performed only by women. The idea is that only those who possess a vagina can understand the unique sexual and physical struggle that women face in today’s society. In 2004, a monologue was introduced to include those who were not born with the physical female anatomy, but who have come to realize their true gender identity. I wanted to share this with you:
They Beat The Girl Out Of My Boy…Or So They Tried
by Eve Ensler
Introduction
As part of Eve’s work to include the voices of all women who face violence, she
interviewed a diverse group of transwomen in preparation for creating this piece. This
piece was performed for the first time by an all transgendered cast in LA in 2004.
They Beat The Girl Out Of My Boy…Or So They Tried
At five years old
I was putting my baby sister’s
diapers on.
I saw her vagina.
I wanted one.
I wanted one.
I thought it would grow
I thought I would open
I ached to belong
I ached to smell
like my mother
her sweet aroma lived in my hair
on my hands, in my skin
I ached to be pretty
Pretty
I wondered why I was missing my
Bathing suit top at the beach
Why I wasn’t dressed like the other girls
I ached to be completed
I ached to belong
To twirl the baton
They assigned me a sex
The day I was born.
It’s as random as being adopted
or a being assigned a hotel room on the 30th floor.
It has nothing to do with who you are
Or your fear of heights.
But in spite of the apparatus
I was forced to carry around
I always knew I was a girl.
They beat me for it.
They beat me for crying.
They pummeled me for wanting
To touch
To pet
To hug
To help
To hold
Their hands
For trying to fly in church
like Sister Batrell
For doing cartwheels.
Crocheting socks
For carrying purses to kindergarten
They kicked the shit out of me every day
On my way to school.
In the park
They smashed my
Magic marker painted nails
They punched my lipsticked mouth
They beat the girl
out of my boy.
Or they tried.
So I went underground.
I stopped playing the flute
“Be a man, stand up for yourself
Go punch him back.”
I grew a full beard.
It was good I was big.
I joined the Marines
“Suck it up and drive on.”
I became duller.
Jaded.
Sometimes cruel.
Butch it
Butch it
Butch it up.
Always clenched, inaccurate,
Incomplete.
I ran away from home
From school
From boot camp.
Ran to Miami
Greenwich village
Aleutian islands
New Orleans.
I found gay people
Wilderness lesbians
Got my first hormone shot
Got permission to be myself
To transition
To travel
To immigrate
350 hours of hot needles
I would count the male particles as they died
16 man hairs gone.
The feminine is in your face
I lift my eyebrows more
I’m curious
I ask questions.
And my voice
Practice practice
It’s all about resonance
Sing song sing song
Men are monotone and flat
Southern accents are really excellent
Jewish accents really help.
“Hello my friend”
And my vagina is so much friendlier
I cherish it
It brings me joy
The orgasms come in waves
Before they were jerky
I’m your girl next door
My Lt. Colonel father ending
Up paying for it.
My vagina
My mother was worried
what people would think
of her
That she made this happen
Until I came to church
And everyone said you have a beautiful
Daughter.
I got to be soft
I am allowed to listen
I am allowed to touch
I am able to
To receive.
To be in the present tense
People are so much nicer to me now
I can wake up in the morning
Put my hair in a pony tail
A wrong was righted.
I am right with God.
It’s like when you’re trying to sleep
And there is a loud car alarm–
When I got my vagina, it was like someone
Finally turned it off.
I live now in the female zone
but you know how people feel about
immigrants.
They don’t like it when you come from someplace else.
They don’t like it when you mix.
They killed my boyfriend
They beat him insanely as he slept
With a baseball bat
They beat this girl
Out of his head.
They didn’t want him
Dating a foreigner
Even though she was pretty
And she listened and was kind.
They didn’t want him falling in love
With ambiguity.
They were scared he’d get lost.
They were that terrified of love.
PFLAG Coeur d'Alene 
How wonderful!