A Little Secret…

Ok. So I don’t talk about this very much because it’s not a very appreciated opinion to have.

When I entered puberty, I discovered that razors scare the crap out of me. The only ones I’ve been able to use are the electric buzzers, but I’ve only ever owned one and it broke so easy that I felt the 30+ bucks that got spent on it were pretty much not worth it. It’s resulted in a habit of using hair burning products like Nair, which are also not perfect and can cause injury, but just work best for me. It also means that I can’t always be hair free. See, if you chemical off stubble, it means that the product is less on the hair and more on the skin. It results in a guaranteed chemical burn from hell versus like a 5% chance of a chemical burn from hell.

This, obviously, has been a huge problem for most of my significant others. And I don’t really get it. To me, it’s just a little life inconvenience to not always have hair free armpits in the middle of summer, but to them, it’s almost an embarrassment. I have some of the sexiest legs I know, and people think they’re tarnished by my blonde barely noticeable hair.

And now, here’s my little secret. All of my partners but one that have been around long enough complain about the bush. I understand their complaints. “I want to go down on you and it’s difficult when there’s hair in my face and hair maybe in my teeth and blahblah.” Although, I find it annoying when often the guy isn’t doing the favor in return. Protip: when you’re eating pussy, you can push the hair aside. When you’re sucking on balls, well, you’re sucking on hair.

But the truth is, it doesn’t matter. I love having a bush.

Now, when I say this, I say it the same way I said “oh man, I love having long hair.” Which meant yeah, long hair looks good on me, I feel sexy with it, but I’m also not so attached that I can’t go to dyke cut in about ten minutes. Because I also love having short hair, the kind you don’t brush for weeks at a time because there’s nothing that can tangle.

When I have a bald pussy, I do love it, because the other half loves it. But, there is sort of this feeling of, “this feels vaguely pedophilic” for me. To quote a comedianne, “I feel like an oversized baby.” Plus, the itching of hair growing in starts almost immediately and lasts for basically until I have a full on bush again. I’m not even going to entertain the idea of waxing to make the hair take longer to return.

And when I have a bush, I love it. There’s just something kinda sexy about having to push hair aside to touch yourself, or the way it gets when you’re wet, or when you look in the mirror and go “oh yes, I am an adult. I am a full grown woman, and it’s sexy.”

But I do feel a need to say, I don’t think the American hatred of body hair comes from a place of societal pedophilia. I think it’s easy to perceive it that way, and in some cases it may be true, but I think generally it comes from a totally different place. Prepare for a peek into my weird brain.

When one looks at various mammals in the animal kingdom, they see hair. Lots of hair. The human body has a sort of rhyme and reason for its body hair. We don’t have face fur, we have eyebrows, head hair, sometimes beards and mustaches, but no fur on the nose or anything. I used to know a guy who had sideburns that would extend out to his cheek, and he was self conscious about them and tried to keep the stubble down.

Hair, or the lack of, is really something that separates homo sapiens, the human being, from the rest of the mammal kingdom.

Here’s the thing though: we’re still mammals. We are animals. We are not some elite force. We are not hugely different. We are not even the largest species or the largest populated. Were it not for language, or advanced thumbs, we wouldn’t have everything we have.

I think people, on some level, want to disassociate from being like other creatures. Because once you do, at least this has been the case for me, the feeling of insignificance becomes overwhelming. What luck of the draw did I win to become human versus chimpanzee, or dog, or dolphin, or ant? Did I really win? Why have humans done so much versus any other animal? Horrible existentialist questioning for hours as I curl up in a ball in a corner and rock back and forth.

But one day, I was super stoned, and I looked in a mirror and caught sight of, of all things, my teeth. The way my canines are pointy, the way my mouth is crooked from a missing tooth, the way I lifted my lip to look closely at them, it all screamed “you are a primate!”

It was awesome. I felt connected with the world I lived in at that point, and the more I think about the fact that we are nothing more than another animal in the primate order, the more silly some of our approaches feel. Like to sex, to diet. To hair.

Aside from some uncomfortable looks I get from people I want to sleep with, I actually like having body hair sometimes. It makes me feel on some level like I’m not denying my heritage, my ancestor of Lucy. I wonder if someday I’ll get to be with somebody again who also doesn’t care?

So ask yourself, what is it about body hair that you don’t like? Or, maybe, do like?

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~ by Stefani Vonne on 07/12/2011.

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