To Be (hairy) or Not To Be
I've always been a very hairy person, thanks to the Malayali genes. My eyebrows unpruned will remind you of Gerald Simpson and my legs, the au naturel likes of Amanda Palmer. Unwaxed or unshaven body hair bothers others more than yourself and that's a sick truth to deal with. I've had my (un)fair share of scorn and contemptuous stares from friends and strangers alike for letting my hairs grow. I even remember being frowned upon by a girlfriend in front of many others for not having shaven my arm pits.
When I first decided to get my eyebrows done I was 13. The pain is excruciating for any first timer and salty water began trickling down my face. I bore the pain having assured myself that the result was going to be worth it all. And it was. I was told I looked different, less darker and beautiful. All these compliments from girls I admired made me feel really good. Since then every three weeks I would make a beeline to the salon - getting my brows shaped and my body waxed. I felt great like all the other pretty girls and what more, socially accepted.
When I started my affair with Bangalore I was seventeen, fresh out of school, excited about college and the five-months-away entry into adulthood. Despite all the joy and excitement a part of me nestled disturbingly anxious thoughts -
"Will I be accepted?" "Do I have to prep up more now that I'm in Bangalore?" "Will I make it into the cliques?".
I stirred these thoughts in mind almost everyday before college when one June morning I decided to attend a women's conference. The speaker was a friendly, assuring, positive soul - Mrs. Carlien. She spoke about the role of women today and every other day, about embracing your self, your hairy, sweaty, cranky true self. Somewhere deep down I looked down on myself in shame for having never realized or valued my worth, for having despised authenticity and wanting to embrace deceptive, fleeting charm.
My first day at college was terrific, eyebrows undone, looking more like the real me. I was a little doubtful of this huge step since all that concern about my bear hair was still harbored within. Anyway I leapt in faith; made great friends with two fun girls. We laughed over my malayali accent, their terrible jokes and just how we hit things off pretty well. We called ourselves "The Three Musketeers" and the bond remains the same to this day. After that first day's excitement and rush I was back in my room, examining the unpleasant growth of facial hair on me. The inspirational moments had passed and I felt terrible. All the girls around me had perfectly waxed hands, perfect brows, perfect skin, perfect everything. That night I remember going out to buy razors in an attempt to look ramp-ready the next day. This hair cleansing ritual then became more of a routine and I followed it unquestioningly for months. I would constantly find myself in conflict with the desperate need to be myself and the unhealthy want to please people through outward appearance. Veet, Gillette, Venus, all ads had women flaunting smooth, hairless arm pits and feather soft skin; so smooth that a car could veer off if driven there. None of the movies I watched had hairy women. Porn stars had perfectly trimmed pubic hair or no hair at all! I wondered... why? Why was something as natural and needed as the eye or the nose or the genitalia detested so much?Why did I give in to the pressure?
When it all aggravated I decided to give up on this unsettling conflict that tugged at me all the damn time. While the dilemma strangled my sanity I had hardly noticed college days quietly passing by.
2014 introduced me to Joshua Becker, a spiritual, practical minimalist and through him I began a serious approach towards minimalistic living, embracing life as it happened, and practicing gratitude. All the books and articles read and videos watched introduced me to more and more like-minded free spirits. I was once again reminded of Carlien's words - "You are enough!". Brittany Taylor, Savannah Brown, Amanda Palmer, Patti Smith, Victoria Jones, all these wonderful women inspired me through their music, their charismatic words of wisdom and soulful music. They taught me things movies, advertisements and popular culture failed to. They opened my eyes to the beauty of body hair and the purpose it served. They reminded me it was okay to just be and not struggle to look good. And that is exactly where I am at today. Taking the best possible care of myself, physically and mentally but at the same time ensuring I do not expend my creative time and energy on it. It's high time we told ourselves we are just fine the way we are.
Now put those *hairy* arms up in the air and say hurrah!
When I first decided to get my eyebrows done I was 13. The pain is excruciating for any first timer and salty water began trickling down my face. I bore the pain having assured myself that the result was going to be worth it all. And it was. I was told I looked different, less darker and beautiful. All these compliments from girls I admired made me feel really good. Since then every three weeks I would make a beeline to the salon - getting my brows shaped and my body waxed. I felt great like all the other pretty girls and what more, socially accepted.
When I started my affair with Bangalore I was seventeen, fresh out of school, excited about college and the five-months-away entry into adulthood. Despite all the joy and excitement a part of me nestled disturbingly anxious thoughts -
"Will I be accepted?" "Do I have to prep up more now that I'm in Bangalore?" "Will I make it into the cliques?".
I stirred these thoughts in mind almost everyday before college when one June morning I decided to attend a women's conference. The speaker was a friendly, assuring, positive soul - Mrs. Carlien. She spoke about the role of women today and every other day, about embracing your self, your hairy, sweaty, cranky true self. Somewhere deep down I looked down on myself in shame for having never realized or valued my worth, for having despised authenticity and wanting to embrace deceptive, fleeting charm.
My first day at college was terrific, eyebrows undone, looking more like the real me. I was a little doubtful of this huge step since all that concern about my bear hair was still harbored within. Anyway I leapt in faith; made great friends with two fun girls. We laughed over my malayali accent, their terrible jokes and just how we hit things off pretty well. We called ourselves "The Three Musketeers" and the bond remains the same to this day. After that first day's excitement and rush I was back in my room, examining the unpleasant growth of facial hair on me. The inspirational moments had passed and I felt terrible. All the girls around me had perfectly waxed hands, perfect brows, perfect skin, perfect everything. That night I remember going out to buy razors in an attempt to look ramp-ready the next day. This hair cleansing ritual then became more of a routine and I followed it unquestioningly for months. I would constantly find myself in conflict with the desperate need to be myself and the unhealthy want to please people through outward appearance. Veet, Gillette, Venus, all ads had women flaunting smooth, hairless arm pits and feather soft skin; so smooth that a car could veer off if driven there. None of the movies I watched had hairy women. Porn stars had perfectly trimmed pubic hair or no hair at all! I wondered... why? Why was something as natural and needed as the eye or the nose or the genitalia detested so much?Why did I give in to the pressure?
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| That's the way Amanda Palmer likes it! |
When it all aggravated I decided to give up on this unsettling conflict that tugged at me all the damn time. While the dilemma strangled my sanity I had hardly noticed college days quietly passing by.
2014 introduced me to Joshua Becker, a spiritual, practical minimalist and through him I began a serious approach towards minimalistic living, embracing life as it happened, and practicing gratitude. All the books and articles read and videos watched introduced me to more and more like-minded free spirits. I was once again reminded of Carlien's words - "You are enough!". Brittany Taylor, Savannah Brown, Amanda Palmer, Patti Smith, Victoria Jones, all these wonderful women inspired me through their music, their charismatic words of wisdom and soulful music. They taught me things movies, advertisements and popular culture failed to. They opened my eyes to the beauty of body hair and the purpose it served. They reminded me it was okay to just be and not struggle to look good. And that is exactly where I am at today. Taking the best possible care of myself, physically and mentally but at the same time ensuring I do not expend my creative time and energy on it. It's high time we told ourselves we are just fine the way we are.
Now put those *hairy* arms up in the air and say hurrah!
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