Born with a cunt: An apology for being female

Born with a cunt: An apology for being female

By Donna Barber

Chapter One

My name is Donna Barber and I was born with a cunt. Even as a small child I felt different from the other girls I knew. They seemed unashamed of having a gaping hole between their legs instead of the manly rod that Gentlemen have. Worse still, as I got older I discovered that some of them were even proud of their stinking, dirty, repulsive holes and proud of being female.

As far back as I can remember \I did NOT share their false pride. I always knew instinctively that HAVING a cunt instead of a manly prick was some kind of genetic defect, a curse under which all females laboured and from which we could never hope to escape. Having a cunt doomed us to perpetual inferiority to the male gender.

Although I had not yet discovered the true, just and fair principles of the masculist philosophy, I always knew that Boys were better than girls. I also realised from the earliest time I can remember that the root of the differences between us was obvious and clear. It was simple and logical. Boys had those wonderful things called pricks or cocks which elevated them at once to a position of inherent superiority. I, like all giror mls, only had a disgusting thing called a cunt which was nothing more than a nasty, stinking hole beetween my legs.

For quite a while I could see almost NO purpose for my cunt. I used it to piss out of, just as the Boys pissed out of their manly pricks. Then my older brother, only five years to my three but almost precociously wise in every respect, showed me another use for what until then I had thought of as nothing more than my pisshole.

Even though I was many years away from a full understanding of the masculist philosophy, or even discovering its most elementary principles, I always knew that Boys and Gentlemen knew best. I deferred to my father and brother in everything. I could never understand why my mother sometimes argued with them or even shouted at them sometimes. Although I rarely understood what they were arguing about I always knew instinctively that they MUST be in the right and my mother wrong. How COULD my Mum possibly be right? She was just a girl like me and, like me, she only had a cunt and not a prick.

Anyway, one day when I was only three, my five-year old brother Nick came to me when we were both outside in the garden. It was a Saturday afternoon and my Dad had gone off to the football match. Mum was indoors doing the washing and she'd left the two of us to play in the garden.

'Hey, Donna,' said Nick. 'Show us your cunt.'

It felt strange to hear him say that. Somehow it was the beginning of my awakening though of course it was many years before I fully grasped the significance of that day.

In our house at that time my mother NEVER allowed any 'bad language.' I'd never heard words like cunt or fuck or shit or twat or anything like that. The stinking hole between my legs was always referred to as my 'girl thing' and Nick's manly rod was always called his willy.

Even though I didn't know the word somehow I knew immediately what he meant. I suppose he must have heard the word at school but anyway I realised what he was talking about.

'Of course,' I said instantly.

Then I pulled down my knickers and lifted up my skirt. My brother looked at it closely and then spat on the ground.

'That's disgusting!' he said. 'It makes me want to puke just looking at that dirty cunt of yours.'

I understood exactly how he felt. It made ME feel the same whenever I had to look at it - at bathtime or when I was getting dressed or undressed.

'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I know it's disgusting but I just can't help it. I was born with that horrible thing between my legs and I wish I hadn't been. It makes me feel sick just thinking that I've got to put up with that for the rest of my life.'

Nick laughed.

'Bet you wish you had a nice big cock like me instead of a dirty stinking cunt like you've got!'

'Yes, I do,' I admitted. 'I've always hated my - cunt, you called it?'

'Yes, cunt, twat, cooze, slit, snatch. There's all kinds of words for that smelly, gaping hole between your legs. And none of them nice ones. Well, it's a nasty thing, isn't it? It's bound to have nasty names for a nasty thing!'

'Yes, I can see that. And it IS a nasty, smelly, disgusting thing. I wish I didn't have a cunt, Nick. I wish I had a cock like you do.'

'Well, you don't, bitch, and you never WILL have one. You'll only EVER have that stinking, dirty cunt of yours. Tough shit!'

I thought long and hard over what he'd said. Later that day Dad came back from the football match in high spirits because his team had won.

Nothing much happened till the next day. It was Sunday and though I was too young to quite know what was going on the TV news had told us a few days ago that a General Election was coming and that as well as the main parties a new group was contesting it. I didn't know much about them but I gathered from the way Mum reacted that she didn't like them one little bit. I didn't yet understand why she felt the way she did.

Then on Sunday afternoon someone came knocking on the door. It was what is known as a canvasser and they were trying to get votes from people in our constituency. We were a marginal seat, held by the Conservatives but with a small majority over the Liberal Democrats and with Labour a long way off in third place.

'Good afternoon, sir,' said a Gentleman in about his thirties as my Dad opened the door. 'I'm calling on behalf of the League for Male Supremacy. We're putting up a candidate here and I was wondering if I could count on your support at the forthcoming General Election.'

'Well, I don't know,' said Dad. 'What kind of policies do you stand for?'

'We've got a whole range of policies, sir. On the economy, on law and order, on foreign policy, on family values, education, all sorts of things. Would you like to take one of our leaflets? Do you have any questions you'd like to ask me?'

'I'll take a look at your leaflet,' said Dad. 'If I like what I see I'll think about it.'

Then he closed the door and went back inside to read it.

h

For the  next couple of weeks things went on more or less as before. Dad seemed a bit quieter than usual but otherwise everything seemed normal. Then it was election day and both my parents went out to cast their votes.

Next morning my brother and I woke up to the astonishing news that was being flashed out all over the television.

Basically the League for Male Supremacy had won 483 out of the 650 seats being contested and had an overwhelming majority in the new Parliament. Every single sitting female MP had lost her seat and every one who had been a candidate but not a sitting MP had lost her deposit. It was a total wipeout of girls in Parliament. The leader of the League, Mr. Harry Stevens, was going to be the new Prime Minister.

Mum stared at the TV set in horror and disbelief.

'It's incredible!' she said. 'How can people vote for a party whose main 'principle' is to turn women into second class citizens?'

'According to exit polls 35% of women voted for them,' said Dad. 'How do you explain THAT?'

'I can't,' said Mum, 'any more than I can explain how 88% of men said the same thing. I just can't understand how ANYONE could vote for a party that wants to make its main 'aim' to oppress half the population simply because of their gender.'

'So did you vote for them, Mum?' asked Nick, a sly grin on his face.

'Certainly not!' she said angrily. 'I voted for the Liberal Democrats.'

'What about you, Dad?'

'Yes, I voted for them, son,' said Dad. 'It's about time we tried doing things different in this country. We've had to put up with too much silliness for too long and I thought it might be time for a change. Of course, I didn't expect them to win the election but I thought if they won a few seats it would send out a strong message.'

Mum looked at Dad in horror.

'You voted for - for the League? How could you?'

'Because I wanted to and because it was the right thing to do. If I don't like the way they do things I can always vote for someone else next time round.'

'But I won't be able to vote next time,' said Mum angrily. 'One of their committments is to ABOLISH the right of women to vote.'

Over the course of the next week the new government introduced a range of new bills. They seemed to deal with every aspect of our lives from constitutional reform, legal reform, economic reforms and even what they called 'family values.' Mum and Dad argued furiously about the bills but with the huge majority the League had they were all rushed through. Within eight weeks of Mr. Stevens becoming Prime Minister every one of them had been passed.

The House of Lords tried to water them down and delay them but the government stood firm. When the queen was forced to agree to a creation of enough new peers to make it impossible for the Lords to reject the policies they backed down and passed them. The queen signed them and they became law.

That was the start of the new and better world in which I've been lucky enough to live and grow up happy.