14/06/2022

CLÁUDIA LUCAS CHÉU

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Dor e vergonha na
descoberta da vulva

Lembra-se de pensar entre lágrimas como a envergonhava aquela ferida. De como o sentimento de dor e vergonha estava intimamente ligado ao seu sexo.

𝒫𝑜𝓇 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓈, 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑜𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓊, 𝒹𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓊𝓂𝒶́𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒶, 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶 𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓋𝒶. 𝒩𝒶 𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝓃𝒶̃𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓋𝓇𝒶 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓋𝒶. 𝒜 𝓂𝒶̃𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒶𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝑜 𝒻𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑜 “𝓅𝒾𝓅𝒾”, “𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶”, “𝓇𝑜𝓁𝒶” 𝑜𝓊 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓁𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓊𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝒶𝒸̧𝒶̃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒾́𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶. 𝒫𝑜𝓇 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓈, 𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝒷𝓇𝑒, 𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓏𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽𝒾 𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑔𝑜 𝒶 𝒶𝓋𝑜́ 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝒶, 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓈 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝒽𝑜𝓈 𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝓉𝑜𝓈, 𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸̧𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓂 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓋𝒾𝒹𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝑔𝓃𝑜́𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑜 - “𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝓊́𝒹𝒶 𝓉𝑒𝓂 𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝑒𝒸𝒸̧𝒶̃𝑜 𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶́𝓇𝒾𝒶” - 𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓂𝒶̃𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝓋𝒶́-𝓁𝒶 𝒾𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓉𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝑜 𝓂𝑒́𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜.

ℒ𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶-𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑒 𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓂 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇 𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝓊𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓈; 𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝑒𝓃𝒻𝑒𝓇𝓂𝑒𝒾𝓇𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓂 𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒, 𝒹𝑒 𝓋𝑜𝓏 𝓂𝑒𝓁𝒾́𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒶. 𝒪 𝑔𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓉𝑒, 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑜 𝑒 𝒾𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒶𝒹𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂 𝓁𝓊𝓏 𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓁, 𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶 𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒 𝒿𝒶𝓃𝑒𝓁𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓂 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝑜 𝓅𝒶́𝓉𝒾𝑜 𝒹𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝑜𝒹𝑜 𝑒𝓂 𝒸𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜, 𝑒 𝑜 𝓂𝑒́𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜, 𝓊𝓂 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒽𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒷𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝒾𝓍𝒾𝓃𝒽𝑜 𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑔𝓊𝒹𝑜, 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒-𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝓃𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝒶. ℰ𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓏𝒶𝒹𝒶. 𝒪 𝓂𝑒́𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓊-𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓂, 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶-𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒶 𝓃𝑜 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒶. 𝒩𝒶̃𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝒾 𝓅𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝒶 𝒹𝑜 𝓅𝓇𝑒́𝓂𝒾𝑜 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝒹𝑜, 𝓃𝒶̃𝑜 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝒹𝒶 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒶 𝒹𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶́𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑜 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝑜𝓈 𝓂𝑒́𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜𝓈; 𝒻𝑒𝓏 𝑜 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝑜 𝓉𝑒́𝒸𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑜 𝒹𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓊́𝒹𝑒 𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝒹𝑜 𝒹𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝓅𝓊𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓇. 𝒪𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝒿𝒶, 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓊 𝒾𝓂𝑜́𝓋𝑒𝓁 𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓂 𝒶𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓇 𝒶 𝒷𝑜𝒸𝒶, 𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜𝓊 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝒶 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓃𝓈𝓉𝒶̂𝓃𝒸𝒾𝒶 𝑒𝓇𝒶 𝒶𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓁𝑜 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝒾𝓏𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓂 “𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓇-𝓈𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓂”.

𝒪 𝓂𝑒́𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓈𝑜𝓊-𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝑜, 𝑜 𝓅𝒾𝓅𝒾, 𝒸𝑜𝓂 𝓊𝓂 𝒸𝑜𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓉𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓇𝓂𝑒, 𝓃𝓊𝓃𝒸𝒶 𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝓃𝒽𝓊𝓂 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓂 𝓉𝒶̃𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑜. 𝒯𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝓋𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓇, 𝓃𝒶̃𝑜 𝒹𝑜𝒾́𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝑒𝓇𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶́𝓋𝑒𝓁 𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓃𝒽𝒶. 𝒜 𝓂𝒶̃𝑒 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒶𝓁𝒾 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒶 𝒶 𝑜𝓁𝒽𝒶𝓇 𝑒 𝒾𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝓏𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜: “𝒩𝒶̃𝑜 𝒸𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝓃𝒶𝒹𝒶, 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝒽𝒶, 𝓋𝒶𝒾 𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝓇𝒶́𝓅𝒾𝒹𝑜.” ℒ𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶-𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸̧𝒶 𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓇𝑜, 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝒶-𝓈𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒾𝓁𝒽𝒶𝒹𝒶, 𝓃𝒶̃𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝒷𝒾𝒶 𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓆𝓊𝑒̂. ℰ𝓇𝒶 𝒶 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝒾𝓇𝒶 𝓋𝑒𝓏 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝑔𝓊𝑒́𝓂 𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝓃𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝑜, 𝓊𝓂 𝓂𝑒́𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜, 𝓊𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑜, 𝒶 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝒾𝓇𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒶𝓈𝒶̃𝑜 𝒹𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒶𝒸𝒾𝒹𝒶𝒹𝑒.

𝒜 𝓈𝑒𝑔𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓋𝒶 𝒹𝒶 𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒̂𝓃𝒸𝒾𝒶 𝒹𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒶 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓋𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝒾 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓈 𝓊𝓂 𝒶𝓃𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒸𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜. ℰ𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒹𝑒 𝒻𝑒́𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂 𝑜𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑜𝓈 𝑒 𝑜𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓈 𝓃𝑜 𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒿𝑜, 𝑜𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓂 𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒶𝒹𝑜 𝑒𝓂 ℒ𝒾𝓈𝒷𝑜𝒶 𝒶 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓁𝒽𝒶𝓇. 𝒩𝑜 𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒿𝑜, 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝑜𝓈 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓇 𝒹𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓉𝒶 𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝒶𝓃𝒽𝒶𝒹𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑜𝓈. 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓂 𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒶́𝓋𝑒𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒾́𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒿𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝑜 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝒶 𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒, 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝒶𝒾𝓍𝒶𝓋𝒶𝓂 𝓊𝓂 𝓅𝑜𝓊𝒸𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒶 𝓈𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓂 𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓈 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝒸𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶̃𝑜. 𝒩𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓈, 𝓃𝒶̃𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑜 𝑒́ 𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝓏 𝒶𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓁𝑜, 𝒸𝒶𝒾𝓊 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝒶̃𝑜 𝓃𝑜 𝒻𝑒𝓇𝓇𝑜 𝒹𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒾𝒸𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶. ℳ𝑒𝓈𝓂𝑜 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓂 𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝑜.

𝒜𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝒿𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝑒𝑔𝓊𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓇-𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓍𝒸𝓇𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝓃𝒶 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓋𝒶. 𝒮𝒶𝒾𝓊 𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝓂 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒸̧𝒶̃𝑜 𝒶̀ 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝒶 𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓈, 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒶 𝒶𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝑜. 𝒜 𝓉𝒾𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓊-𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝑔𝑜 𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝓊𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓈 𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓂 𝓊𝓂𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒶 𝒹𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝒷𝓇𝑒 𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝑔𝑜𝒹𝒶̃𝑜 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑜. 𝒯𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝒾𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝓅𝑒𝓈, 𝓊𝓂 𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝒹𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜 𝒹𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒽𝒶, 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑜 𝓁𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒶 𝓂𝒶̃𝑒. 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓋𝒶. ℒ𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶-𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒶𝓇 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒶́𝑔𝓇𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑜 𝒶 𝑒𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒶𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒶. 𝒟𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑜 𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓇 𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓃𝒽𝒶 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒶𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝑜.

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IN "PÚBLICO" - 13/06/22 .

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