It was on the bookshelf of every hippie, woman-loving communal house in college
By Marigo — April 19, 2016
When I was ten years old, my childhood best friend read me passages from “Our Bodies, Ourselves” in a bedroom in Park Slope, Brooklyn. It was her mom’s copy. Years later, I saw it on the bookshelf of every hippie, woman-loving communal house in college. It was a cultural icon for my generation, and it harked back to a to a prior era that was inspiring for us.
Each year, when it’s time to decide what to be for Halloween, I think about ways to celebrate my culture. It’s important to me to not culturally appropriate, and this leads me to spend a good amount of time thinking about my own origin stories. Other criteria for my Halloween costume: I want it to be political — or at least consciousness raising — to be unexpected, and to make people laugh.
This year, I landed on the idea of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” as the perfect costume to meet those, and even more criteria (such as a major thumbs up from the queer community). The Halloween before, I was a Diva Cup.
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In this series, readers tell their stories about their experiences with the book and its impact on their lives. View more stories.
Respect to our bodies and to ourselves. Yay, Marigo.
This was my “bible” in the early years. I also had a young daughter who grew up listening to my rants on equal rights for woman and learning at a very young age some of the challenges we faced as woman. So happy to say she’s very respectful and in-tune with her own body and has turned out to be a wonderful woman. Keep up the good work. Should be mandatory reading.