What Women Call Their Genitals Says Everything—About Power, Pleasure, and the Politics of Naming
Monday, November 3, 2025.
Every woman has two vocabularies: one for the world and one for herself.
The first is public—tidy, polite, and euphemistic. The second is private—honest, messy, and usually whispered. What she calls her own body reveals what she was taught to hide, and what she’s learned to reclaim.
A new study in Sex Roles (Oschatz, Klein, Kovalcik, & Kahalon, 2025) confirms what feminist linguists have long suspected: the language women use for their genitals is not trivial. It’s diagnostic.
Women who reach for childish or coy terms tend to feel worse about their bodies. Those who can say the so-called “vulgar” words—without apology—report more pleasure, confidence, and connection.
In short: what you name, you own.
Researchers from Johannes Gutenberg University and Bar-Ilan University surveyed 457 American women, asking what words they use for their genitals in everyday life versus in sexual contexts. Participants also completed questionnaires on body image, sexual satisfaction, orgasm frequency, and health behaviors like vaginal cleansing or interest in labiaplasty.
The results were striking:
Women who used childish or playful words (“hoo-ha,” “vajayjay”) reported lower genital self-image, fewer orgasms, and greater openness to cosmetic surgery.
Women who used vulgar terms (“pussy”) in sexual contexts reported higher sexual pleasure, more frequent orgasms, and a stronger desire to receive oral sex.
Using anatomical terms (“vagina,” “vulva”) correlated with healthier self-perception, but not necessarily greater sexual satisfaction.
Euphemisms (“down there,” “private parts”) turned out to be psychologically neutral—neither helping nor harming.
As Tanja Oschatz told PsyPost, “Context really matters. Using childish terms in non-sexual contexts was linked to negative self-image, while using vulgar terms during sex correlated with pleasure and empowerment.”
Naming and Shame: A Brief History of “Down There”
The Latin word pudendum—still used in anatomy textbooks until the late 20th century—translates literally to “that of which one ought to be ashamed.” Medical language made shame anatomical.
For centuries, polite society preferred euphemism over accuracy. Women’s anatomy was something to be managed linguistically: softened, avoided, or wrapped in lace. Feminist linguists like Robin Lakoff argued in the 1970s that this “linguistic politeness” reflected structural power—men had slang, women had silence.
Fast-forward fifty years, and that silence has been disrupted—but not evenly. The new study suggests that some women have inherited the verbal shyness of their foremothers, while others have retooled vulgarity into a language of sovereignty.
The Digital Renaissance of Vulgarity
Today’s reclamation is happening on TikTok and Twitter, not in textbooks. The internet’s chaos has given women permission to experiment with naming, irony, and self-mockery.
Videos tagged #vulvaeducation and #pussyisapoliticalword attract millions of views. A 22-year-old might alternate between “pussy” and “vulva” in the same sentence, the way her grandmother alternated between “slacks” and “pants.” The shift is linguistic evolution in real time—a blend of humor and anatomy that signals both literacy and liberation.
The “dirty word” is now a shorthand for self-possession.
Why Childish Words Wound and Vulgar Words Heal
Childish language is often introduced by adults trying to protect girls from discomfort. It softens the concept but shrinks the sense of ownership.
The trouble comes when those terms persist into adulthood. As the Oschatz et al. study shows, women who continue to use childish words like “vajayjay” often internalize a subtle message: this part of me is unserious.
By contrast, words once considered obscene—like “pussy”—are being reclaimed as linguistic power tools. Their explicitness disrupts the centuries-long association between female anatomy and secrecy. As Mona Eltahawy wrote, “The word once made me cringe. Now I say it loudly, proudly, and politically.”
Language, Pleasure, and Health Behaviors
The study found that women using childish terms were also more likely to use vaginal cleaning products and more open to labiaplasty—behaviors tied to anxiety about cleanliness and conformity.
These associations hint at what psychologists call internalized genital stigma—a polite term for the lifelong education in self-disgust many women receive.
Meanwhile, women who used vulgar terms during sex described not only greater physical pleasure but also a more relaxed relationship to their bodies.
“The word ‘pussy,’” Oschatz observed, “may now be associated with empowerment rather than shame.”
What’s radical here is not that language shapes the body, but that it can reshape it—reclaiming physical joy from linguistic residue.
Clinical Implications: What Therapists Should Listen For
For therapists, especially those working in couples or sexual health contexts, this research is practical gold.
When clients rely on childish or euphemistic words, it can point to unresolved discomfort or learned avoidance.
Encouraging anatomical or self-chosen language can strengthen body literacy and reduce shame.
Discussing vocabulary with partners can transform embarrassment into connection.
As the data suggest, a woman’s word choice is not just a linguistic habit—it also may be a barometer of self-regard.
When Vulgarity Becomes Power
The findings challenge the polite notion that empowerment must sound refined. Women who use explicit language in bed are not being crude; they are performing linguistic agency. The word “pussy,” like “queer” before it, has undergone cultural composting—its dirt has become fertile ground for self-definition.
This isn’t just rebellion; it’s reclamation. Feminist theorists from Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues to postmodern sex educators have argued that saying the word vagina—and meaning it—is a radical act. Now, it seems, so is saying pussy and enjoying it.
Final Thoughts: From Word to Worth
Language is the body’s echo in the mind. The names we choose for our genitals are small acts of autobiography—fragments of history, family, religion, and resistance.
Infantilizing words keep women small.
Anatomical words teach precision.
Vulgar words, when reclaimed, teach power.
The research is clear: women who can say pussy without flinching are statistically more likely to experience pleasure, autonomy, and satisfaction.
And if that makes someone uncomfortable, they can always go back to calling it a “hoo-ha.”
Because sometimes, the most adult thing a woman can do is use grown-up language.
Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.
REFERENCES:
Eltahawy, M. (2022, February 8). The word ‘pussy’ once made me cringe. Now I say it loudly, proudly and politically. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/feb/08/pussy-word-feminism-language-women
Ensler, E. (1998). The Vagina Monologues. Villard Books.
Lakoff, R. (1975). Language and Woman’s Place. Harper & Row.
Oschatz, T., Klein, V., Kovalcik, V., & Kahalon, R. (2025). Vagina, Pussy, Vulva, Vag – Women’s Names for Their Genitals are Differentially Associated with Sexual and Health Outcomes. Sex Roles.https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11199-025-01586-3