(this post is SO not going where you might think it is from the title…)

It is often that I say, “thank you, whomever is responsible, for the fact that I am living in this day and age“.  When I think about my dad, living with (and succumbing to) mental health struggles back in the early 1970s, I am extremely thankful.

Because, unlike him, I have been able to live with Bipolar Disorder.  I am able to speak openly about having a mental health issue, get the help I need and do what I need to do.  Without shame, I can tell others about this and (most often) be met with the same reaction I would get if I mentioned having diabetes.  Fortunately, that’s been my experience.

Ok, stay with me, reader. I know by now you’re salivating about the vaginas. Cause who doesn’t like a good cupcake?

Sweet, sweet vaginas

So before we get all sweet (and vagina-y), I want to say this:  I feel exceedingly fortunate. Because I am here, in Canada, in 2012.  I am not living in a society where I need to be on the defensive (most of the time) for bringing my whole self to the fore.

Which is why I can just post vagina cupcakes on my blog.

Just like that.

I have absolutely zero concern about anyone coming across this picture. A potential client? No problem. A potential student?  Not a big deal.

I’ve never hidden the fact that I have Bipolar Disorder, nor do I feel the need to conceal the fact that I find this picture just priceless.

Oh, and while I’m busy not feeling shame about the bits that make me me, let me tell you one more thing. I also…wait for it… have a vagina!

It makes me exceedingly happy to be able to draw this parallel and feel not one iota of discomfort or shame.  I am grateful.

(Cute aside: while I was writing this post over a pint, a darling older gentleman wearing his legion pins on his cap said, “How is the novel coming along?”. When I explained what I was actually working on, he insisted that I share that the 3rd cupcake from the right in the second row looks like a Blue Point Oyster from Boston!).