I Stopped Shaving For One Year
Why?
1. I was tired of having to change my body in order to like myself. Letting others see my body hair made me feel ashamed. Looking at it myself, I felt disgusted. I saw it as a mistake to be corrected, a part of me that didn’t deserve to exist. But this part of me was persistent; week after week, month after month, it wouldn’t give up its right to live. And I got tired of fighting.
2. Shaving is uncomfortable 1) physically: the irritated skin, the pain of waxing, the minimalist traveler’s burden of carrying a razor, and 2) emotionally: “It’s time to shave again, but why do I shave? — I don’t want to.”
3. There was a rage inside me
(“why can men do it?”, “this is my body”, “who are you to tell me what’s beautiful?”)
that could only be set free if I would release
(my body, my unpolished self, my shame, my pride)
my skin.
Why am I telling you about it?
Going au naturel for one year has transformed the way I connect — with myself, with others, and with the world. It has changed the way I perceive myself as a part of society, as a sexual being and as a unique individual.
The lessons I have learned from this experience are not exclusive to the challenge of not shaving (I’m not telling you to do it: maybe you love your baby-soft skin, and that’s great!) I am sharing this journey so that I can talk to you about:
learning about myself through others,
relearning how to think,
learning how to be loved,
being authentic and inspiring others to do the same.
I want to tell you what I have learned by embracing this challenge,
(I want to show you a destination, let you experience it through my words)
so that you can pick your own
(what scares the shit out of you and gets you excited at the same time?)
and use it to reach your own destination.
(within yourself, among others, and as a part of the universe)
I learned that:
If I can do this, I can do anything;
I am at the swimming pool with my 13 year old friends. I can barely believe it, but it’s true: the boy I like just challenged me for a swimming competition! I tell my friends, and they giggle, and I’m in heaven. But then I notice that I forgot to shave. My whole world falls apart and my heart falls at my feet. “Where do I hide?” My face is white, everyone laughs and stares at me, and I run away crying.
I wake up sweating from another anxious nightmare. I tell myself that it was just a dream, but the feeling is still there.
As a teenager, I thought that nothing could ever be as frightening as letting someone else look at my unshaved body. I thought I would have to hide forever, because I would never have the strength to be that vulnerable.
Of course, things have changed. Just like waking up from a nightmare, growing up sheds light over many childhood fears. However, just like the aftermath of bad dream, that fear often lingers, disguised as quiet discomfort.
This discomfort is exactly what I chose to face. And when I did it — when I faced my biggest teenage fear, when I stopped shaving — I was perplexed at this realization:
The consequences were odd-breakingly good.
I learned that being vulnerable is always beneficial.
(The benefits depend on how I look at each situation.)
If I choose to win, there is nothing to lose.
If I try to hide it, it’s shameful; If I proudly exhibit it, it’s cool;
The first few times I wore shorts and tank tops a year ago, my first instinct when meeting someone (a friend, a lover, the waiter at the cafe, my gynecologist) was to hide. “If I don’t lift my arms too much and if I keep my legs under the table for as long as possible, maybe they won’t notice. And maybe that will make it easier.”
But then I realized how much bullshit that was. Not only was it bullshit, it was also exhausting (the constant worry in the back of my mind, as if showing myself like that was offensive). Besides, it didn’t even work — the more I tried to hide, the more exposed I felt, and the more obvious my shame became.
This bullshit alert hit me like a bucket of ice cold water. I had to invert my approach, and that’s what I did:
Just like Freddy Mercury wore his heart, I decided to wear my body hair: like a crown.
I started lifting my arms way more often than usual
(yawning, pointing, waving)
and I started initiating conversations about shaving;
(as I proudly laid out my bare legs at the sunny beach with my friends)
I made it dead obvious.
I told myself and others
(with my body language, with my words, with my smile)
how confident I felt,
and then I felt confident.
I chose to determine how beautiful I am, and people around me believed it.
The language I use defines the way I see the world (and not the other way around);
The words I speak (or write, or think, or physically express) define the way I perceive myself: they are causal.
Throughout this last year, I have witnessed certain concepts change their meaning in my brain. After looking at my unshaved skin every day, ugly became unique, embarrassing became brave, and disgust became admiration. As soon as I realized the potential of this new language, I started learning it in depth.
I introduced different verbs,
(I rejoice, I admire, I embrace and appreciate my reflection in the mirror, and the way I feel when other people look at me)
I got a brand new dictionary,
(beauty /ˈbjuːti/ noun: 1. the contrast between that dark spot under my arm and the color of my skin)
and I started practicing it by using it with others.
(never have women with a light shade of grey above their upper lip looked so sexy to me, and never have I been able to find so many lovely details in everyone else’s faces, bodies and behaviors)
This new way of thinking became more and more present in my social interactions. By improving my language, I changed not only the way I think, but also the way others think about me. The ultimate proof of the effectiveness of my technique was feeling unique, brave and beautiful around others, and noticing that they also perceived me in that way.
Not shaving was the first step in my journey. What’s yours?
My first unshaved intimate interaction with a new sexual partner:
First: “I’m afraid. What if he’s disgusted? What if I am disgusting?”
Just before: “I’m here already, and this is how I am; there’s no point in feeding my fear, so I better embrace my sexy hairy self and enjoy it.”
Realization #1: “My fear was unfounded: it doesn’t seem to be a problem to him at all. He even seems to like it.”
Realization #2: “If this wasn’t the problem after all, why do I still feel afraid?”
Sex, job interviews, making new friends, family Christmas dinner, etc. Certain human interactions have the potential to be either extremely rewarding or downright uncomfortable.
That discomfort is set in layers — and therefore it can be dismantled. Each time you remove a layer, you discover something new about yourself, and you get closer to the root of that feeling.
If my body hair is no longer my biggest source of embarrassment, why do I still struggle to connect, to be myself? If I am now confident about my physical appearance, why do I still fear that my words (and my behavior, and my movements, and my choices) will be judged?
Each time you face a fear, you open a new possibility, you pose new questions and you find new answers.
So here is what you can do:
Being a social being is an endless learning process. Human interactions are a fertile field for growth, and you can choose your own tools to dig deeper and find the source of your anxiety, your fear, and your frustrations.
Choose that thing
(splitting the bill, receiving advice, physical contact, flirting)
that makes you tremble
(terrified, awkward, shy, nervous)
and grab it by the balls.
(observe beyond your fear: how does it feel? where does it come from?)
When you put your finger in the wound, you will notice that it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You will realize that every injury is temporary. Once it’s healed, you will be one step closer to finding out what hurt you in the first place. And then you can heal more, and again, and faster, and better.
P.S.: I don’t plan on shaving anytime soon,
but I will be working on other cool stuff to help bring humans closer together! I will be sharing it here.
