Photo Credit: BreeAnne Clowdus
Title: Growth
For years, I have looked at myself in the mirror asking my non-existent Dad the question, “Why did you make me so hairy?”. —African American Female, Age 23, Performer
I wanted to start off the conversation with hair because everyone has it. Whether it’s very noticeable or not. I began to realize how hairy I was when I was in middle school. When you look at me and see my skin you automatically would see my hair. It was a package deal. I was/am what most kids my age would call redbone, light-skinned, or mixed. (Even though both of my parents are black, people still assumed I was mixed because at that age you are what you look like). So it was really easy to see the thick dark hair against my light skin. The first body part I started to shave was my legs. I was in P.E. and another girl pointed out to me that my legs were super hairy. Of course, she decided to point this out in front of other girls in the class. They asked me if I shave. When I said no, they told me that I needed to. I was already at the age of comparing myself to what other girls look like. However, it was worse since I was on the cheer squad as well. I saw girls whose skin was clear from hair and blemishes. I didn’t realize it then, but I was equating the lack of hair with being beautiful. When wearing the cheer uniforms, my legs, armpits, and even stomach could be seen. So I started shaving my legs and armpits first since it was the area that is seen the most. However, once I noticed hair in one place it was as if I could see the hair any and everywhere on my body. I felt like I had a hair disease. I had shaved my arms, my legs, my armpits, and my stomach. Now of course my mom didn't think I should start shaving. She didn't even know I was shaving until the razor bumps and scars started to form due to the regrowth of my hair. My mom felt that hair was “sexy.” However, whenever my mom said that I immediately gagged at those words coming out of her mouth.
I was constantly shaving incorrectly. Consequentially making razor scars and bumps. Then one day, I looked down and saw the hair growing out of the sides of my underwear. I freaked out. I wondered, how I would be able to change in the locker room or wear my cheer uniform with all that hair growing. I had nightmares about doing a toe touch and people seeing my pubic hair from the bleachers. So I started shaving there as well. I love my mom. She didn't want me shaving, so she didn't really teach me how to shave out of protest. She tried to tell me that hair is beautiful and that some men think it’s sexy. (In my mind, I pictured the grossest man in the world being attracted to a woman with hair.) Well, her hair was thin on her body. She didn't have thick, black, and coarse hair. When she shaved there were no marks left behind. She had no hair on her stomach, breast, chest, or chin. It was hard to listen to my mom because her hair struggles weren't the same as mine. I felt bad because the mother of my two best friends at the time would shave their bodies for them to make sure they were doing it right. Other friends tried to help me by giving their advice, but we were all figuring it out at the same time. Which automatically meant that the help was limited.
Now fast forward to today, I find out I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). PCOS is the number one cause of hair growth and other hormonal issues in women. I now have semi-permanent scaring on my stomach, chin, and bikini line. Mostly due to constantly shaving, plucking, and ingrown hairs. I have turned to the waxing method because it provides better results, but those scars still remain as a constant reminder of a time when I hated my own body and skin. To tell you the truth I am still self-conscious about it. I wasn't okay until I started having to change in front of other girls in college for theatre shows. I finally noticed I wasn't the only one.
I wish I was educated more about how normal and different hair is. I wish I was taught early on, the harmful consequences of shaving incorrectly or too frequently. I wish PCOS, and other normal female hormonal challenges were taught to me early on. I wish someone had told me those things so that I wouldn't have been walking around thinking that something was wrong with just me and me alone. Because of how I felt growing up, my idea of beauty was altered. For me, it wasn't about size or height. You could be super tiny or super thick, but in my eyes as long as you didn't have hair in undesirable places I thought your body was beautiful. I later realized that depending on your ethnicity and cultural background hair can actually be viewed in a positive light.
What was your experience with hair growth? Is it praised in your culture? Is it talked about? If not, what would you say to your younger self that you wish someone had said to you?