That’s My Bush!

I just had the pleasure of reading Joan Jacobs Brumberg’s “The Body Project”, a fantastic look at the evolution in the way young girls look at themselves, and try to uphold to the everchanging tides of what makes them appealing and sexually alluring to men.  I really enjoyed the beginning of the book and its coverage of menstruation, and how there were “appropriate” ways to handle your business leading into the hard to avoid consumer merchandising that brought women’s natural business to the forefront and ultimately in the hands of men to profit off of.  The chapter about the clearness of skin was especially sentimental for me, as I know all to the well the pressures laid upon teenage girls to have perfect skin, something that isn’t very easy to control.

Understanding that this book came out in the mid 90’s, and realizing just how relatively new hair removal has become on a the list of many women’s personal body projects, I see why it wasn’t included in the book.  I almost wish, however, that she write a 2nd edition with the inclusion of this particular beauty regimine.  I will also quickly note that I thoroughly enjoy reading Beauty_Schooled’s posts about what she learns while at Beauty School, and how her post have undoubtedly been one of the many reasons I’ve taken a much more critical view on my own “body project” and how I came to take upon the routine that I’ve had for many years. So big ups to Beauty_Schooled!

In reflecting upon my youth, I never really understood why I took to
such an obsessive approach to body hair maintenance.  It’s as though the
day I grew my first pube, I was trying to get rid of it.  Of course, I
do remember the moment I discovered I was growing underarm hair and how
proud I felt that I was hitting that stage of life.  But somewhere in
the fray of adolescence it became ingrained in my brain that the less
body hair the better.  Hours of trimming, shaving, tweezing…taking a
critical eye on how I looked in regards to hariness.  I can say this, my
family was never a factor in my views of my body hair.  Actually, when I
was in 5th grade I shaved for the first time, much to my mother’s
horror.  I remember sitting there on the edge of the tub, knee bleeding
from butchered job I did, and my mother asking me what I was thinking.  I
was thinking that other girls my age were shaving, I was supposed to
too.  I wasn’t allowed to shave without my mother’s supervision, and she
was adament that I only shave at most once a week.  Of course by 6th
grade I had gotten the hang of it and started shaving about every other
day.

The routine I had for body hair removal never seemed obsessive.  But
now thath I’m older and all the more wiser and more aware of how outside
forces shape our perceptions of ourselves, the obsessive quality is off
the charts.  Once I discovered the dark, thick hairs growing on my chin
and neck my routine became longer and more involved.  I would sit in
class running my fingers over the patches I had missed, trying to cover
them in fear that someone might see.  By the time I hit college, I
stupidly started shaving those patches, making the situation worse.  At
about this time i also started shaving the area around my belly button. 
The light hit it just right one day on my way to go swimming, and I
became self concious and worried that I looked like a werewolf.  The
only thing I thankfully never took interest in was shaving my arms.  I
have blonde hair on my arms, and really wasn’t interested in adding on
more time to the routine I already labored at.

Over this past year, I’ve really delved into feminist issues, trying
to understand why I’ve taken up some of the opinions I have, trying to
better educate myself.  Body image has always been a part of my
subconcious, and body hair was lined right under acne until the acne
part was “fixed”.  Now body hair takes front stage.  While the whole
dark hair on my chin/neck, and navel are still works in progress, I have
freed myself of two specific body removal projects.  While I still
shave my underarms, I no longer obsess and shave everyday (i would
suffer the after effects of dry shaving if I wasn’t taking a shower that
day).  A little underarm hair never hurt anyone, and besides if its
there, its supposed to be.  But my biggest achievement is my bush.

When I was 18, i obsessively trimmed my bush every night before bed. 
For some reason shaving never had crossed my mind, and trimming was the
next best thing.  Trimming is kind’ve dangerous.  Think about it, pair
of small scissors, mirror, and a really awkward angle all in your
vaginal region.  Accidents happen, and they sucked to heal from. 
Anyways, one day at lunch body hair was brought up, and my best friend
confessed she shaves. I thought, wow, thats probably a time saver (which
theoretically it is). I’ve shaved my vagina for 8 years.  While on the
one hand, I do enjoy the sensation of being touched sans pubes.  On the
other, I’m 25. I’m a woman. Women have pubes. It’s a fact of life.

Don’t get me wrong.  I do not judge what others do with their
bodies.  To each their own, but I’ve grown increasingly critical of my
actions towards my own body.  My hair obsession was becoming too high
maintenance for the kind of person I am. Hell, my whole body project
became too much.  It was becoming detrimental to my mental health.  I
generally really like myself, for who I am and how i look.  But, at some
point I have to stop and realize that my opinon is the only one that
should matter.  While I hate to admit it, and it took me 15 years to see
it, my hair project stemmed from my fear of others reactions.  What
would people think if I just let the hair on my face grow?  What would a
guy think if I dropped trough, and I had a full blow 70’s bush?  Here’s
what I think…who the fuck cares?  While i wish I could feel that
comfortable with the hair on my face and neck, I’m not there yet.  I
don’t know if I’ll ever be.  But I’ve made a leap in regards to my pubes
that I wouldn’t have imagined a year ago.  I’ve grown my bush back, and
I really enjoy it.  I’ve shaved (pun intended) 10 mins off my shower
time.  And quite frankly I feel hotter.  I feel natural. 

I feel more free.