#leg hair
41 days of not shaving anymore. I haven’t even seen let alone legitimately met another girl who is doing this in person yet. And the reactions from my best friend and my brother (people I’m closest to and thought I would get a more vivacious response from) have been lackluster at best… found this blog and just made a tumblr literally so I could follow it, cause I could really use some genuine enthusiasm and support right now . I was shaving every day from 10 years old until a little over a month ago (I’m 22 now) and I have never ever felt comfortable unshaved for even more than several hours when my legs would start to feel prickly again and catch on the material of my pants and stuff. I would feel so physically uncomfortable sometimes it would make me cry but shaving too often would too because I have super duper sensitive skin… perhaps that’s why the feeling of them being prickly has always seemed to bother me so much more than any other females I’ve ever met. The longest I had ever gone without shaving before this was 5 days when I was 14 in eighth grade and it was only because I was in bed with Swine Flu (lol). So I decided to stop doing this to try to see if I can get to a state where my legs are comfortable all the time (which is impossible when I’m shaving them because of how intensely them being prickly bothers me and how they become prickly within four hours of shaving so there’s barely anytime to even enjoy the soft feeling) and because I highly resent the fact that I am stuck now in a state of physical discomfort that is very hard for me to resolve for myself all because I was made to start changing how I am naturally or “normally” when I was a fricken little girl BECAUSE I was a girl. There is nothing that isn’t fucked up about that to me, to feel now like I had not been given the choice of growing up with leg hair and then as an adult deciding to shave it if I wanted to. I definitely do not feel like most of us or at least a lot more of us would choose to shave as adults if we were allowed to without judgment grow as children and teenagers without needing to modify our appearances because of our gender, because perhaps we would feel no need to, perhaps it would feel so comfortable and normal and attractive and feminine at our basal states to have the body hair we literally all have that no one or fewer people would want to… In my experience regarding shaving as a little girl I was totally being made to feel like it was a behavior that girls HAVE to learn how to do, a behavior as essentially feminine as learning how to put a tampon in. My mother was completely shaming of women who don’t shave one thing or another or even who haven’t shaved in a few days or a week, and she still is. And I’m honestly terrified for her to see me now that I stopped. And I’m still waiting for the time when it feels completely comfortable because I still have like really short prickly hairs all over in addition to the really furry parts now lol. But I guess ultimately I’m posting here because even if this was easy or silly for some people to start and stop doing whenever they felt like it (I envy you so much that’s so awesome) this is really really really hard for me. I feel like this is what a therapist would tell me to do to try to begin resolving my intrapersonal troubles that I trace back to both my relationship with my mother, and my probable obsessive compulsive amplification of my chronic pain and chronic physical discomfort. LOL so basically my point is that this feels really intense to me and it’s also very important to me. But friends and family wise I kind of feel alone in it… so I guess I’m saying all this cause I could really use some likeminded acquaintances right now. Thank you for reading.
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you seem distracted…what’s on your mind?
‘There is a specific way that society expects you to behave.’
‘You suffer to be beautiful for a certain gaze.’
‘Beauty and social constructs perpetuate feelings of self hate.’
‘We all have ingrained mechanisms that are sexist and racist.’
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Last night I shaved my legs,pits, and pubic hair (see links for pictures). I hadn’t shaved my legs and pits in half a decade, and I hadn’t shaved my pubic hair in more than a year and a half. I loved not shaving. I loved feeling the wind in my leg hair. I loved surprising people with the fact that I didn’t shave my pits. I loved feeling like I was still a little bit radical.I loved having hair on my cunt, because it helped weed out douchebags, I liked the way it looked, I enjoyed not having to deal with the shaving, and because it helps reduce infections. I’d even started pulling on my pubic hair while I masturbated, after MLAM did that to me a few times.
I didn’t shave because my feelings about my body hair changed. I did it because my owner told me to. I’m visiting him at the end of this week, and he finally gave me the order I’d been expecting for a while. He instructed me to shave, telling me to take before and after pictures for this tumblr, to explain that he is taking away my “stupid little feminist hissy fit shit.” I used to say that I wouldn’t shave for any man because I liked having the body hair and if some guy didn’t like it, tough. My owner tolerated that for a while, but planted the idea of making me shave in my mind, fucking with my feminist beliefs, making me wet thinking about him making me do that for him.
He’s let me keep my hair for a long time, longer than many owners would indulge a little feminist bitch like me. Let me hold on to this idea that I’m a strong, independent woman who can make decisions about her own body. We both know now that’s not true. I’m a toy for him to play with, including deciding how I will keep my body hair.
Having to do this was not unexpected, but it was a big deal to me. Not shaving may seem like a passive thing, since shaving is an action one chooses to take. But in this society, women are expected to shave, and I’ve gotten more than a couple of people online tell me I was gross or unattractive because I don’t shave. I was actively, and aggressively, deciding to not shave. It became part of my identity.
And now it’s gone. My owner has control over my past, present, and future, and can fuck with them however he likes. He decides what aspects of my identity I get to keep, and what aspects I have to get rid of.
Before and after shaving pictures of my legs.
I think I’ll miss my leg hair most of all. Even though it was difficult to see, being someone who didn’t shave my legs made me happy, and I enjoyed the novelty of it. I liked fitting the incredibly outdated and inaccurate stereotype of the “hairy-legged feminist.” I bonded with a friend in undergrad over the feeling of wind in our leg hair, and since then, every time I’ve felt it, it made my day just that much better.
Not any more. Now I’m a smooth-legged little fucktoy.
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Last night I was leaving the play space with Legal Lolita and I felt the wind blowing through my leg hair. That’s one of my favorite feelings. It makes me feel free, reminds me of friends from undergrad, and, I must admit, I feel a little bit of feminist pride, even though I definitely don’t think it’s inherently anti-feminist to shave.
That will be the last time I feel that for a while. My owner has finally given the order to shave for when I see him next week. I haven’t shaved my legs or pits in half a decade, and it’s been more than a year and a half since I shaved my pubic hair. I’m emotionally invested, and when he gave the order, I teared up, especially about the leg hair.
I’ll have a full post and pictures Sunday/tomorrow.
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Hairy hot tubs
Paintings and hairy legs
My long hairy legs have more power in the world than you ever will
