For decades, women across Europe have spoken of the quiet discomfort of encountering stigma woven into the very language used to describe their bodies — from outdated, shame-linked anatomical terms to judgmental phrasing in medical documentation. Now, a landmark decision from one of the Netherlands’ most authoritative dictionaries has put this long-running advocacy effort in the global spotlight, opening a new chapter in the fight for gender-inclusive, respectful terminology.
Last month, Dikke van Dale, the Netherlands’ leading reference dictionary, announced it will add “vulvalippen” — a neutral, anatomically accurate term for labia that translates directly to “vulval lips” — to its upcoming online update. The new entry will appear alongside the long-standing traditional term “schaamlippen”, which literally translates to “shame lips”.
Activists across the continent have spent years pushing to revise terminology tied to women’s bodies, sexuality and health, united by the core goal of moving away from words that carry implicit misogyny and judgment. Shari Klein, co-founder of the Dutch advocacy group Schaamteloos — which campaigns against terms incorporating the root “schaam”, meaning shame — spoke at a recent public march celebrating the dictionary’s decision, emphasizing the profound impact language has on self-perception.
“Language shapes how we see ourselves,” Klein explained. “It’s crucial people have a more neutral, anatomically correct word – not a word that links to shame, whether consciously or subconsciously.”
While calls to adopt “vulvalippen” are not new, campaigners say the dictionary’s decision marks a key cultural milestone, signaling that mainstream society may finally be ready to confront outdated linguistic norms. Esther Van der Valk, a member of prominent Dutch feminist organization Dolle Mina, noted that the shift is also tied to broader efforts to advance sex positivity and eliminate body shaming. Following the dictionary’s announcement, the movement’s next priority is to persuade medical providers and government officials to adopt the new term in patient consultations, public health leaflets and official documentation.
Ton den Boon, editor of Dikke van Dale, defended the decision to add the new term, noting that “vulvalippen” has already gained widespread traction across Dutch public life: it appears regularly in media, biology textbooks, medical resources, and even veterinary medicine, making its formal inclusion long overdue.
Still, the question of whether the term will achieve full mainstream adoption across all sectors remains open. The campaign also opens the door to broader re-evaluation of other Dutch anatomical terms that carry similar stigma, including “schaam haar” (shame hair, the traditional term for pubic hair), “schaam been” (shame bone, referring to the pubic bone) and “schaam lice” (shame lice, the common term for pubic lice).
This Dutch push for linguistic reform is not an isolated effort. It mirrors parallel campaigns across Europe that have sought to rework harmful terminology for decades. In 2018, German journalists Gunda Windmüller and Mithu Sanyal launched a petition to swap the German equivalent of “shame lips” for “Vulvalippen”, after Windmüller learned from gynecologists that many women experience deep shame when discussing their bodies during medical appointments. When researching her reporting, Windmüller found she could not even reference basic female anatomy without including the word “shame”. While “Vulvalippen” has not yet been added to major German dictionaries, the term has already entered common use in textbooks, women’s magazines and everyday conversation, and Windmüller says she hopes the Dutch decision will reignite momentum for reform in Germany.
Similar efforts have already yielded results in other parts of Europe. In Sweden, a successful 2009 campaign led to the addition of a new term for hymen to the country’s academic dictionary. The traditional term, “mödomshinna”, translates to “maidenhood membrane” or “virginity skin”, a phrasing that activists from the Swedish Association for Sexuality Education (RFSU) argued was both anatomically inaccurate and reinforced harmful myths about virginity and female sexuality. The new term, “slidkrans”, translates to “vaginal corona”, a name that accurately reflects the biological reality of the hymen: a natural ring of tissue folds, not an intact seal that breaks during first intercourse. “With a new word we can challenge the myths that seek to control women’s sexuality and freedom,” explained RFSU’s Sonja Ghaderi. While the term is now widely used by healthcare providers in youth clinics, Ghaderi noted that harmful misinformation persists, underscoring the ongoing need to challenge limiting social constructs embedded in language.
Across the Channel, the movement has also gained traction in the UK, where feminist podcast host Nicola Denson-Elliott has launched a petition to replace the term “hysterectomy” — the medical name for surgical removal of the womb — with “uterectomy”. Denson-Elliott points out that “hysterectomy” has deep linguistic roots in the word “hysteria”, a historical term once used to label women’s emotional distress as a unique gendered disease. Advocates argue the new name would be more anatomically accurate and free of outdated, misogynistic baggage, framing the existing term as a form of medical misogyny. “Women deserve terminology that respects them,” the petition states.
Not all experts oppose reform, but some caution that any changes to medical and anatomical language require careful consideration to avoid confusion. Dr. Beth Malory, a linguistics researcher who studies gendered language in healthcare, notes that new terms must be tested for clarity before widespread adoption. “Will people understand uterectomy? Is simply saying removal of the womb better?” she asked, adding that new terminology must not be ambiguous, and changes need to be considered within the broader context of existing medical language to prevent confusion.
Malory’s own research on language used in pregnancy and obstetrics has highlighted just how much harm outdated, judgmental phrasing can cause. One common term she highlights is “incompetent cervix”, used to describe a cervix that shortens prematurely, increasing the risk of pregnancy loss and preterm birth. Malory says many women have told her the term makes them feel personally blamed for a medical condition they cannot control.
“Why do we need judgmental words like failure or incompetency?” asked Dr. Brooke Vandermolen, an obstetrician who has stopped using several problematic terms in her own practice, including “failure to progress”, the traditional phrase used to describe labor that does not advance as expected. “Language is incredibly important and the words we choose can show recognition and make people feel validated and seen.”
In 2022, the UK’s Royal College of Midwives released official guidance offering alternative, less stigmatizing phrasing for common obstetric terms. Even so, Vandermolen says many traditional terms remain in widespread use and continue to cause unnecessary emotional distress for patients. She says she hopes the Dutch decision to add “vulvalippen” to its national dictionary will spark broader conversations across the UK and beyond about how language shapes experiences of women’s health. “What we say can have a lasting impact,” she noted.