How Body Hair Helped Me Love Myself

When I was a little girl, body hair on a woman seemed gross. I was used to seeing hairless women with long, shiny legs in pictures and on screens, and all the women around me only tried to imitate them. Body hair was so scarce I genuinely believed women didn't have any. The first time I saw a woman who hadn't shaved, I was shocked. Ironically, it seemed unnatural. Weren't women supposed to be hairless?

As a young teenager when I started learning about feminism, I finally started seeing more pictures of women with body hair that were actually presented in a positive light: images of counterculture families living out of their vans, the mom all-natural and happy, tumblr girls dying their armpit hair bold colors with smiles on their faces. I thought it was lovely, but my thoughts on it still were, "I like women having body hair, I just don't want it on myself." Even though I stopped seeing unshaven women as "ugly," but I still shaved meticulously multiple times a week, eradicating even the slightest hint of leg hair until my skin nearly burned. 

Then one day in high school, I witnessed a friend I had a crush on who always wore glitter on her cheeks and flowers in her hair walking proudly in a tank top, exposing her armpits hair to the world. Another girl looked her up and down, then mockingly spat "Looks like someone forgot to shave today." 

With the kindest smile, my friend replied, "Nope! I just didn't want to," before walking on with her head held high. 

Something clicked then.

I knew I hated shaving, and I didn't mind how unshaven bodies looked at all, but for years I prioritized how I thought other people perceived me over my own comfort. It was more than just thinking shaving would make me beautiful. I was taught that shaving is a requirement, that my body can't exist in its natural state if I want to be loved by other people. Body hair, I was taught, was beyond ugly, it was unfeminine––the biggest crime a woman could commit.

But when I saw my friend looking so beautiful and holding her head so high, I realized it was ultimately my choice whether or not to let other people's standards dictate how I tended to and perceived my own body. Having leg or armpit hair wouldn't make me any less of a woman or any less beautiful, and I didn't have to let other people's attempts to shame me get to me.

After that, I started only shaving once a week. Then every other week. Then slowly over the years, I've gotten to the point where I shave maybe twice a year. 

It's not that there's anything wrong with women who want to shave their legs, or that somehow you're a bad feminist if you feel more attractive without hair. Shaving is a perfectly fine thing, and everyone should be allowed to choose how they look without it having to mean anything about who they are as a person. 

I don't want to shave. Simple as that. I'm slowly getting to the point where I'm starting to feel even more beautiful with my body hair than without it, because I know it's how I want to look, not how other people want or expect me to. 

When I stopped shaving, even though I stood by my own decision, I still felt hyper aware of all the hair on my body when I walked out the door. It wasn't because I felt I was ugly or looked unpolished, but because I was afraid other people would see me that way. Though I never completely stopped worrying about what people thought of me, not shaving gave me lots of practice in not letting those worries dictate the way I lived. It might seem like such a small change, but it honestly helped me gain so much confidence and love for myself, knowing I was putting myself first. 

I don't care if it sounds stupid. I'm proud of myself for not shaving. Not shaving means loving myself enough to live how I want to despite how people might perceive me. Especially when I was a younger girl, that act of self love felt nothing short of revolutionary. 

I know there must be some people who are shocked or even repulsed when they see me in a dress and heels with my hairy legs and my hairy pits in full view because I'm not supposed to dress feminine if I'm not going to have a "feminine body."  Body hair has no gender. There's no one way to be feminine. Being taught that to be a woman requires being hairless is one of the many lies of the gender construct. I'm going to dress and look however I want.

I can still feel girly and beautiful looking this way, and not that it matters, but plenty of other people see me that way too. I feel free and joyful allowing my body to exist the way I want it to. Too bad there are people out there who don't get to enjoy my beauty too. They're missing out.