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The weather is warming up, the birds are dancing and chirping, the snow has finally melted and the sun is starting to shine brighter. All of this can mean only one thing: Summer is just around the corner. Swimming, hiking, biking, warm sunny days, thunderstorms, flowers, green grass, and driving with the windows down are all a few short weeks away, and with all this glory also comes a change in wardrobe.

I was never the kind of person that deep down cared about my appearance when I was younger. Mostly I just wore baggy clothes that hid my figure and were abundantly comfortable, and would randomly shave those ever-so-feminine parts of my body even though I didn’t really know why, except that everyone else seemed to do it and it was general knowledge that hairy women were considered repulsive. Never did I give that a second thought.
As I got older, I started being intimate with men as the story goes, and with that came the feeling of self-consciousness. I thought, based on the culture I was raised in and the men I was sleeping with, that porn was the standard and every part of my body from my armpits down should be shaved and kept that way. I thought that if I had even the slightest bit of stubble I would be deemed un-sexy, and for a girl in her early-twenties who is just starting to experience her sexuality even the slightest hint of rejection from a partner would have crushed my confidence completely. I didn’t know anything except that I should be the porn star of my partner’s life and keep him coming back for more.

In my mid-twenties I met a group of people who would change all of this senseless thinking. I started dating a man who was peculiar, he didn’t find modern sexuality pleasing. He was, in my opinion, “old school” when it came to what he found attractive. He thought body hair was awesome, and at the time I thought that was crazy. He had a friend who was super excited to meet me after she found out we were dating. I remember that first time we ever met, I was in Washington Park hanging out with a group of people I didn’t know too well, and she rode up on her bicycle wearing some slick sunglasses, a tank top and a black skirt. She walked over and took a seat next to me, and we had a nice conversation in the warm summer sun. Besides her cool style, the thing I noticed most about her was her incredibly hairy legs and armpits. She had obviously not shaved in years, and she didn’t care who saw, she was just free and comfortable in what she liked and found attractive. Her confidence blew my mind, I was admittedly mortified and embarrassed for her at first, but she was so cool and tough I couldn’t harbor those feelings for long. After she left the park I overheard some of the other people I was sitting with poking fun at her, appalled at how hairy she was and what she was wearing. At that moment my mind shifted, and I knew that everything I had thought up until that point was totally and utterly flawed.
I took a serious cue from my wonderfully hairy friend and stopped shaving. At first I went a few months, got super self-conscious and shaved. For some reason I couldn’t shake the feeling that people were judging me harshly and that I would never find a partner that considered women with natural hair a huge turn-on even though I did. I continued on this track for a few years until I decided that I was confident enough in myself and my sexuality that it didn’t matter anymore. I enjoyed the way it felt to be hairy, I loved the way it looked and I reveled the comfort of no longer getting razor-burn on my most sensitive areas. This is the first summer that from the get-go I am comfortable, confident, and even excited to break out the tank-tops and short-shorts. For the past two years I’ve been able to liberate myself from the razor; I let my hair grow where nature intended it to grow, and I don’t care who sees. After all of this I can finally say that I love my body and all the hair that comes along with it. I feel empowered and unstoppable by the ruggedness of it, I enjoy the sense of freedom and carefree joy that it brings me.  If you’ve ever, even once, considered throwing that razor in the garbage and letting nature do it’s thing, I would strongly encourage you to let loose and give it a try. If it ends up not being your thing that’s totally understandable, but you never know until you try and if you’re experience is anything like mine, it will be wonderful.

  1. WomenFirst says:

    I’m interested to know how it’s working out for you with male sexual partners now that you’re hairy. I mean, isn’t there still a conflict between being yourself, loving your (adult, which means hairy) body — and being attractive to the men you want? There just aren’t any men whose tastes entirely missed being shaped by porn at age 11 or so.

  2. gail_halestone says:

    At first it made me really nervous to think that I wouldn’t be able to find a partner because I thought that. The person I was dating at the time of converting to being hairy was more of a ‘I find you attractive, so whatever works for you’ kind of man, and also has been with hairy women in the past so it wasn’t new for or gross to him. The man I’m seeing now is more attracted to women with body hair than without. I don’t know if it makes a difference, but they’re both in their thirties. I find forward-thinking men more attractive, and most of them that I’ve personally met have been exposed to and probably are attracted to hairy women. I’ve also found that those men are definitely more concerned with making sure I’m having a good time, and are way more into foreplay than any of the previous partners I’ve had. Hands down the best lovers i’ve ever had. It’s been a really rewarding experience so far!