The Female Pelvis and Misogyny: A Vocabulary on Trial

Reclaiming the FePelvis: A Word-by-Word Rebellion

In my talks and workshops, I spend time discussing how misogyny shapes our pelvic connection and health. Societal, cultural and religious messaging feeds the disconnect, confusion and shame from so many directions at once. It's woven through the world we live in. Some of it you're consciously aware of. Some of it flies under the radar — but it's no less impactful for that.

What makes me incredibly angry is this: the language of female genital anatomy and reproductive medicine is a big part of the problem, and we have no choice in the matter when dealing with Western medicine. We don't get to opt out of the words used to describe our own bodies.

So let's have a little explore.

Vagina

First recorded in 1680, the word comes from the Latin for "sheath" — implying that the vagina's primary role is to be a holder for the penis.

Er, no. Our vaginas have far more interesting things to do. Penises are way down the list of priorities — and wait for an invitation.

Pudendum / Pudendal

Derived from the Latin pudere, meaning "to be ashamed" or "that whereof one ought to feel shame." This word literally brands the entire female genitalia as a place of shame, somewhere to be hidden. Time to ditch it altogether — no replacement needed, just banish the shame.

Hysterectomy

The suffix "-ectomy" means surgical removal. So the correct term for removing the uterus should be uterectomy — not hysterectomy. "Hyster" comes from hysteria, a condition doctors once believed affected women, and which we now know never existed as they described it.

It was first formally defined in the 5th century BCE, covering symptoms like excessive emotion, irritability and anxiety — and it was only ever diagnosed in women. Male doctors at the time believed these symptoms were caused by a "wandering womb": the idea that the uterus moved around the body, searching for sperm.

(Our wombs have better things to do.)

Using "hysterectomy" in modern medicine keeps this witch-hunt-era, anatomically nonsensical idea alive. In an age of extraordinary medical advances, surely it's time to retire language built on a myth we've known to be false for well over a century.

"Hostile" and "Incompetent"

There's a scene made famous by Grey's Anatomy (season 7, episode 4) where Meredith is told she has a "hostile" uterus. When she pushes back on the word, Derek tells her: "You're just getting stuck on the word."

Her reply: "How would you feel if she called your penis angry, or snide?"

I shouted at the TV when I watched that.

Alongside "hostile uterus" sits "incompetent cervix." Judgemental. Downright nasty. Enough already.

The Eponyms

Then there are the eponyms — Fallopian tubes, Bartholin's glands, the Pouch of Douglas, the G-spot (Gräfenberg spot). Many pelvic features are named after the male anatomists who "discovered" or mapped them, echoing old tropes of exploration and ownership over female bodies.

Not yours to name matey.

It's time to stop with the self-important naming rights and get anatomically correct instead:

Here we go!

Fallopian tubes becomes Uterine tubes

Pouch of Douglas becomes Rectouterine pouch

Bartholin's glands becomes Greater vestibular glands

G-spot (Gräfenberg spot) becomes CUV Complex (Clito-Urethrovaginal Complex)

That last one matters beyond the naming itself: there is no "magic button" of pleasure. Instead, there's a rich and varied terrain of erectile tissue in and around the clitoris and vulva

The Verdict

Words aren't neutral. They shape the way we think and feel about our bodies, consciously and unconsciously. They land within our emotional and physical bodies.

Uterectomy. Uterine tubes. Rectouterine pouch. Greater vestibular glands. CUV Complex. None of these are radical demands — they're simply anatomically accurate. It's time to update these for good.

If this struck a chord, I'd love to hear from you — which of these terms are you going to start using?
Which ones did you know about already? Which were new to you?

Image by Susan Lockhart @The Wellcome Collection