I have thick hair everywhere, and I would attempt to remove it from… everywhere (Picture: Sharan Dhaliwal)
‘Sharan, what the hell?’
My friend Julia’s* body twisted dramatically on her spa chair, as her widened eyes fell on my bare legs. ‘You didn’t shave your legs?!’
I looked around the salon – everyone immediately focused on my legs at her outburst, and I went bright red.
Gingerly, I tried to move my trouser legs down as the pedicurist leaned back slightly, to look at her colleague. Her eyes also widened as she looked away, and her face said it all: ‘What is happening?’
We were all in shock, but for different reasons.
This wasn’t the first time someone has been disgusted by my body hair but I’m used to it coming from men – not my friend and, more importantly, not another woman.
It was in lockdown that I decided to stop shaving. As a hairy woman with thick black hair, it was hard to keep up with the sharp shards as they penetrated my skin merely minutes after a fresh shave.
But when I say hairy, I don’t just mean legs and armpits: I have thick hair everywhere, and I would attempt to remove it from… everywhere. When I was young, I hated it. It made me feel ugly and abnormal – I thought there was something wrong with me.
As I got older I grew to love it as I watched it grow on me, and began to take longer spells in-between shaving sessions.
I rarely shaved my legs, unless I was in a relationship or dating. Still, I would always bring a razor to my armpits as they were more readily visible.
I eventually wondered why their opinion mattered so much (Picture: Sharan Dhaliwal)
But it was during lockdown, when I didn’t have to groom for other people, that I realised that there was nothing wrong with my hair. And with that, I realised a big part of my decision to grow my body hair out was as a f**k you to the male gaze.
I was tired. Tired of men who never fail to make comments about how women look, as if their opinion is the only one that matters. As if women, myself included, were created just to look good to them.
I hated it, because I wasn’t made for that standard – my hair is too thick, too frequent, too plentiful. My body changes through bloating, cravings, injuries.
But, I eventually wondered why their opinion mattered so much.
I, and most women, do not fit the beauty standard that men want us to adhere to. So, screw it, I thought. I just won’t.
Men will always comment, but I’m not made for them (Picture: Sharan Dhaliwal)
That’s when they filled my comment sections with throwing up emojis, razors or unsolicited sexual fetish comments. It filled me with more determination to live my life as I wanted.
But while men didn’t understand, I hoped women would.
So when I took Julia for a pedicure in London, so we …read more
Source:: Metro