On Hair, and loving my body
May. 9th, 2009 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressOh hey, I never posted this. It seems pretty readable, so have an essay that's been lying around on my desktop for a couple weeks. I think I wrote it just post-NEFFA or so.
So, I don't shave my legs.
(I don't shave my armpits either, but it's a little easier to hide that --I can wear t-shirts all summer. There is weather where pants *really* aren't an option.)
I've never shaved --never really seen the point. My general feeling about it is that the only thing it really accomplishes is boy attraction, and therefore falls into the same category of "completely fucking useless" as wearing make-up does. When I was of an age to learn how and get into the habit, I was also of an age where boys were useless and relationships impossible. For just post-pubescent Sorcyress, boy chasing was the furthest thing from my mind.
As I've gotten older, actually accepted that maybe this relationship idea is not all bad all the time, and started to (on occasion) do things specifically to attract boys1, 2, I've still never bothered to shave my legs. Between the feministy stance and the much larger "I am lazy and a little bit of a perfectionist and I don't want to waste my time doing that to the degree I'd want to" stance, I've just never gotten around to it.
This would not be a problem, were I not a little bit self conscious of my hairy self. Okay, a lot self conscious. I try really quite hard to love my body just the way it is, but as with the stomach thing (mine is round, not flat), I live in a society that has made it very very clear that my body is NOT PERFECT and I should therefore try to fix it.
This is obviously bullshit. The clearest reason I can see for having a societally perfect body is so I can catch myself a man. Maybe if I get to a point where I can't rattle off without thinking the names of ten guys3 who would happily have sloppy make-outs with me I'll shave and start binge-dieting like it's going out of style6, but in the meantime, I think I can live comfortably with my really quite awesomely hot body just as it is.
Now, almost a year ago, something in my attitudes changed. Prior to this, I tended to wear a lot of tights, a lot of pants, yes, all summer long. Tank tops would only be worn with an open button-up shirt over them. Society couldn't make me take a razor to skin7, but it could at least make me hide the fact that I didn't.
So, a year ago, I was driving somewhere with my friend Jim. It was recockulously hot out, because it was summer in Maryland, and I was wearing shorts. At one point in the conversation, he commented, and I gave my usual "I am lazy and a feminist and therefore don't bother" answer. His response? Totally without mocking "You go girl."
My brain clicked into place, and more or less all was right with the world. That was about the point of my life where I started actively trying to be better about loving my body like it deserves. I've stopped wearing tights when I know damn well they'll be too warm, short skirts are even less the enemy than before, and while I'm still a little bit self conscious wandering out in the world, I'm getting better and better at just not giving a shit.
I don't get in people's faces about it. I don't rail against my smooth-legged friends. ((Hell, when given the invitation, I will happily run my hands up and down my roommates just shaven legs --all of the niceness without any of the itching or stubble the next day!)) I don't even usually bring it up. I just wear short skirts and bare legs and let people decide for themselves whether that's terrible. If people can't be friends with me just because I don't match that idea of normalcy, well, I don't really want them to stick around to find all the other deviant behaviours I indulge in.
I still can't look in the mirror every day and think I'm gorgeous. Hell, half the time I can't even manage seeing "pretty". But I'm getting a lot better at looking in the mirror and seeing myself, exactly as I'm meant to be, and not someone uncomfortable in her own skin.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I feel that this is about the point in the essay where I should say I'm only using boys because I am too lazy to constantly write out "folk who like girls" I have no problems with being ogled by members of any gender --at least not when I'm in ogleable mode. It's a weird little exhibitionist line, and would probably take another essay to explain.
2: And I still don't often do things specifically to attract people. Rocky Horror and *some* conventions are the only exceptions, and only to a small extent.
3: This is not an exaggeration, and I've thought of at least two more since I said that. And these are just the folk I *know* want sloppy make-outs --I'll be damned if I can ever remember or keep track of how many of you want to take me home and do naughty things with me.4
4: ...or to me, but that's a different post, and one I don't feel like putting here. Suffice to say, I think that sloppy make-outs5 should have all parties as active participants. More fun like that.
5: This is a euphanism.
6: Or, you know, I'll just get over it and be happily single. Shock, horror, all that.
7: And that's another thing. Razor blade. Can kill people. Scraping against skin. How the *fuck* is this considered normal for *anyone*?
((That being said, I do have maybe a slight preference for clean shaven men. But I've had perfectly nice kissies with boys with beards before, so really, shaven status is totally up to them. Unless they try to grow a pornstache. I do not give kissies to boys with pornstaches.))
So, I don't shave my legs.
(I don't shave my armpits either, but it's a little easier to hide that --I can wear t-shirts all summer. There is weather where pants *really* aren't an option.)
I've never shaved --never really seen the point. My general feeling about it is that the only thing it really accomplishes is boy attraction, and therefore falls into the same category of "completely fucking useless" as wearing make-up does. When I was of an age to learn how and get into the habit, I was also of an age where boys were useless and relationships impossible. For just post-pubescent Sorcyress, boy chasing was the furthest thing from my mind.
As I've gotten older, actually accepted that maybe this relationship idea is not all bad all the time, and started to (on occasion) do things specifically to attract boys1, 2, I've still never bothered to shave my legs. Between the feministy stance and the much larger "I am lazy and a little bit of a perfectionist and I don't want to waste my time doing that to the degree I'd want to" stance, I've just never gotten around to it.
This would not be a problem, were I not a little bit self conscious of my hairy self. Okay, a lot self conscious. I try really quite hard to love my body just the way it is, but as with the stomach thing (mine is round, not flat), I live in a society that has made it very very clear that my body is NOT PERFECT and I should therefore try to fix it.
This is obviously bullshit. The clearest reason I can see for having a societally perfect body is so I can catch myself a man. Maybe if I get to a point where I can't rattle off without thinking the names of ten guys3 who would happily have sloppy make-outs with me I'll shave and start binge-dieting like it's going out of style6, but in the meantime, I think I can live comfortably with my really quite awesomely hot body just as it is.
Now, almost a year ago, something in my attitudes changed. Prior to this, I tended to wear a lot of tights, a lot of pants, yes, all summer long. Tank tops would only be worn with an open button-up shirt over them. Society couldn't make me take a razor to skin7, but it could at least make me hide the fact that I didn't.
So, a year ago, I was driving somewhere with my friend Jim. It was recockulously hot out, because it was summer in Maryland, and I was wearing shorts. At one point in the conversation, he commented, and I gave my usual "I am lazy and a feminist and therefore don't bother" answer. His response? Totally without mocking "You go girl."
My brain clicked into place, and more or less all was right with the world. That was about the point of my life where I started actively trying to be better about loving my body like it deserves. I've stopped wearing tights when I know damn well they'll be too warm, short skirts are even less the enemy than before, and while I'm still a little bit self conscious wandering out in the world, I'm getting better and better at just not giving a shit.
I don't get in people's faces about it. I don't rail against my smooth-legged friends. ((Hell, when given the invitation, I will happily run my hands up and down my roommates just shaven legs --all of the niceness without any of the itching or stubble the next day!)) I don't even usually bring it up. I just wear short skirts and bare legs and let people decide for themselves whether that's terrible. If people can't be friends with me just because I don't match that idea of normalcy, well, I don't really want them to stick around to find all the other deviant behaviours I indulge in.
I still can't look in the mirror every day and think I'm gorgeous. Hell, half the time I can't even manage seeing "pretty". But I'm getting a lot better at looking in the mirror and seeing myself, exactly as I'm meant to be, and not someone uncomfortable in her own skin.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I feel that this is about the point in the essay where I should say I'm only using boys because I am too lazy to constantly write out "folk who like girls" I have no problems with being ogled by members of any gender --at least not when I'm in ogleable mode. It's a weird little exhibitionist line, and would probably take another essay to explain.
2: And I still don't often do things specifically to attract people. Rocky Horror and *some* conventions are the only exceptions, and only to a small extent.
3: This is not an exaggeration, and I've thought of at least two more since I said that. And these are just the folk I *know* want sloppy make-outs --I'll be damned if I can ever remember or keep track of how many of you want to take me home and do naughty things with me.4
4: ...or to me, but that's a different post, and one I don't feel like putting here. Suffice to say, I think that sloppy make-outs5 should have all parties as active participants. More fun like that.
5: This is a euphanism.
6: Or, you know, I'll just get over it and be happily single. Shock, horror, all that.
7: And that's another thing. Razor blade. Can kill people. Scraping against skin. How the *fuck* is this considered normal for *anyone*?
((That being said, I do have maybe a slight preference for clean shaven men. But I've had perfectly nice kissies with boys with beards before, so really, shaven status is totally up to them. Unless they try to grow a pornstache. I do not give kissies to boys with pornstaches.))