I write to you from a cozy queen bed, outfitted in a luxurious bathrobe and mirrors spanning across the red-orange wall to my right. It’s a sexy room, full of vibrance, spirituality and tranquility all at once. It radiates and reflects an idea from an image I reposted two months ago. This image is a quote that states:
I desire full sexual expression and intimacy in my life, to be connected to my body and unapologetically me.
In response to this repost my girl friend sent me a direct message and asked:
Do you find it more difficult to have sexual experiences with men, since you haven’t shaved? Are they judgmental?
And from the moment I received her question a blog post has been brewing!
Two weeks ago I wrote: Body Hair: I Actually DO Care and spoke about the stigma and the over-sexualization that comes with body hair, especially on social media. I wrote about the fetishizing of my natural human body and the gross assumption that simply because I embrace my body’s power to grow hair, I am somehow expected embrace every penis that is metaphorically shoved at me.
So folks, that’s part of it. But luckily, the majority of men who make these assumptions are easily blocked, told off, or kindly educated, depending on their approach.
In my day to day life I am quite discerning about the men who have the privilege to rejoice in my body. And this was a part a big part of my response to my questioning friend. I explained to her that as I have done the deep internal work to step into loving myself and my body in a more complete and unapologetic way, my idea of an ideal partner has changed as well.
During high school and early college I dressed and performed to attract a certain type of partner, a pretty-boy, put together and image cognizant. I dyed my hair and painted my face, I shaved my body and put my breasts on display. And as a result I got a lot of surface level relationships. Nothing that dived deep, nothing that even came close to embodying the quote I opened this piece with.
So, as I have stepped into my authentic wild woman, I seek out partners who are enlightened, who are wild, and present, who have done their own work and who love themselves and the natural world deeply. And as a result, I cultivate deeper and far less judgmental partnerships.
In a pure state of vulnerability, I will say that part of me also realizes that I likely avoid “pretty-boys” and men outside the conscious community because there is a still a small seed of fear planted inside of me. Fear, that I will be judged for the gardens growing in the groves and grooves of my body. But ya’ll, that seed is quite small, and I am powerful enough to let the judgement roll of my shoulders when it comes.
This being said, there is some judgement, there are boys who question my reasons for my body hair summing it up to a phase, a political or social statement, or simply a silly little mistake - a few too many days without shaving.
But it’s interesting, even the questioning men (not the ones in the above category, they don’t get my time), rather the ones who state that it is new for them, or they are surprised, these men who tread on new territory often don’t mind my body hair. My confidence, my love for my body and her power, my unapologetic voice that sings out without shame washes away any stigma and societal expectation these partners come in with. After all, it’s not their body and they don’t have a say anyway.
And ya’ll, when this societal expectation is washed away, when we come into our primal selves, when we stop thinking about what we are supposed to be attracted to and simply follow what we are attracted to, the need for a hairless body falls to the wayside. The spiritual, carnal, beautiful connection takes over and we return to our wild states with bliss.
In fact, as I reflect on distain for my body hair it is far more common for girlfriends to roll their eyes or cringe at the sight of my hairy body. As women, we have been taught from puberty (and before) that hair our bodies sprout is disgusting, so it only makes sense that hair on another women’s body would elicit such strong response.
But those friends have gotten over it, or fallen to the wayside because or other larger differences. And I have never had a man turn me away because of the corse and curly locks that wind around my body. But I know it happens. And when our natural bodies are rejected we must battle through deep shame and body-hate.
So the the truth of the matter is, you get to take care of your body in the way that feels best, sexiest and most empowering to you. If you want to wax, shave or trim, go for it! If you want to grow gardens, I gotchu girl! If you want to dance from one decision to the other, and back again, I support you. No one gets to tell you what to do with your body hair. And if a partner ever does, leave them. Immediately. They have their own work to do, and their education, frankly isn’t your responsibility. You don’t need their shame or hate.
And folks, please reserve your judgement, please reserve your words of hate, please know that just because someone else’s body is adorned differently than your own, they are no less or more worthy. Please stop fetishizing and over-sexualizing hairy and smooth bodies alike. Our bodies belong to us and us alone, they are not yours to criticize, sexualize or fetishize.
Instead, drop into a place of love. Block out all the societal static and tap into your deep desire, your beautiful corporeal being, and connect with yourself and others in ways that honor you both deeply and respectfully.
So that is what I have to say about my sexual experience as a hairy woman. Thanks to my sweet babe for the daring question, keep them coming, they spark magic!