Let It Grow: Embracing my body in all its hairy glory

While the rest of the pandemic world became obsessed with watching their plants blossom and bloom, I was fascinated with watching my armpit hair grow. 

It was exciting, to be honest. I know that sounds pathetic but these are strange times and in all my 43 years, my underarm hair has always been ruthlessly ripped out, regularly, unfailingly for 30 years. So to see my armpits not hair-free is an event! And I made sure to watch.

By the end of 2 months, however, I knew I never needed to be afraid of a hairy armpit after all. I’m not a hairy person - my mane is thin and fine while my arms and legs are naturally hairless. So it should come as no surprise when my armpits sprouted fine hair, too. After all that waiting and checking if today was the day I finally look like an authentic European woman, it just didn’t happen. 

And I gotta be honest - I was disappointed. I had wanted to show off my hairy underarms to my husband and sons. I wanted to gleefully watch them get grossed out. I had patiently waited to spring a shocker. I was anticipating it. That’s how bored I’ve become! Alas, my body didn’t cooperate and I felt just a wee bit robbed of my entertainment.

The emotion I did feel, to my surprise, was relief. There was just a big sigh at the end of the day. I didn’t pluck anything today. My armpits weren’t the only parts of my body that rested from all that ruthless hair-ripping. My eyebrows grew thick and bushy. My bikini area grew lush. That part of me, my husband noticed. He was amused. “I kinda like this 70s thing going on down here,” he said.  

Truth be told, I liked that 70s thing going on in my body, too. 

In the late 1960s and well into the 70s, Second Wave Feminism gripped women around the world. In the First Wave, which occurred in the 19th Century, women fought to have equal rights when it came to owning property and the right to vote. The Second Wave had women marching the streets against sexism. Women fought against gender roles, for the freedom to choose a career over or alongside marriage, and to emphasize the fact that women weren’t made for men - neither for their pleasure nor their convenience. Women were not the inferior sex. Women were equal to men. This feminism affected the way women lived out their beauty beliefs. 

Jurist and leading scholar in legal ethics and gender Deborah L. Rhode wrote the essay. “Appearance as a Feminist Issue”. In it, she told the story of how protesters ambushed the 1968 Miss America pageant, calling for the boycott of products that changed a woman’s appearance so she can be pleasing to a man’s eyes. “Among that group [of protesters] were authors of a statement accompanying the protest, which explained, ‘Women in our society are forced daily to compete for male approval, enslaved by ludicrous beauty standards that we ourselves are conditioned to take seriously.’ Building on the premise that the ‘personal is political,’ activists shed a range of conventions along with their undergarments. Unshaved legs and unadorned faces became a symbol of ‘liberation.’”

Liberation. That’s exactly how I felt as the hair in my armpits and brows grew and grew. While I started out the quarantine with no plans to make a political statement with my unkempt look, I did appreciate the freedom I suddenly had. And by that I mean I now have more free time. Time to read a few books, to sleep, to even pour into other beauty regimens like foot scrubs and cleaning out my makeup drawer!

I also found it such a surprise that even in my hairy state (fine, I wasn’t that hairy), my husband still found me attractive. Could it be I didn’t have to try so hard for him to want me? He said, “I honestly don’t mind how you look or smell. I like you. After all these years, why can’t you see that?”

Why can’t I, indeed, I thought as I finally depilated my body when quarantine rules were eased.

I’m not advocating for women to abandon beauty regimens. I like my painted nails. I love it when I’m soft and smooth. I enjoy my colored hair. I like being pretty. Nevertheless, from a little experiment out of boredom came the realization that I don’t have to be so strict with my appearance all the time after all. And all that time I can save can be used for other pursuits. The way men do, the way they have been doing for thousands of years. Now that’s something I think about these days.