The Bush and the Blue Lagoon

It was a grey and drizzly morning in Iceland, and motivated by a desire to avoid a day walking about in the chill, with the promise of hot tubs, steam rooms and all the natural spring water I could drink I paid the £98 (yikes) and took the 45 min bus excursion to the Blue Lagoon.

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Formed from natural hot springs that come up through the black volcanic rocks that make up a large part of the strange and beautiful island. True to its name sake the Blue Lagoon is a Lagoon and it is Blue (well technically it’s white and reflects the blue from the sky, but let’s not be too pedantic).

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So the Lagoon was beautiful, but this isn’t an article about my wonderful holiday designed to make you hate and envy me in equal measures, the point and significance of the Lagoon (and all it’s mineral rich loveliness) is that it was the necessary catalyst that brought me, and my unshaven body into a shower room full of other naked women distinctly less hairy than I, and my resulting experiences and realisations that came from it.

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I made the decision to stop shaving my body hair some time ago.

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Firstly it is important for me to mention up front, that as much as I would love to proclaim that this particular ascetic choice to be purely motivated by feminist ideology, a reclaiming of the female form, a shout out to my feminist sisters of yester year, I have to admit the main determining factor was based on nothing more than pure laziness.

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Honestly I could not be bothered to spend the time or expend the effort it takes to shave what amounts to about a third of my body! (For the more follically blessed amongst us – closer to half)

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On top of my desire to expend the least amount of effort possible on my appearance, (here comes the feminist bit) I do also really resent the idea that choices about what I do and do not do with any part of my body should be dictated by anybody but me.

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I truly believe that the pressure that is placed upon us, women in particular, to conform to a contorted and contrived concept of acceptable ‘beauty’ is damaging to everyone. Older women are told to look younger and young girls are told to look older, and there are millions of products produced to help ‘achieve’ these unachievable standards, pink razors and waxing kits being some of the key offenders, in this capitalist enterprise built to profit on women’s low sense of self worth.

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Back to the Lagoon….

It was the first time I had been in a swimming costume since I decided to let it all grow out, and although I am not a very hairy person, the bush was there and she was sprouting out of the sides of my costume, like grass through the cracks of paving slabs.

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My armpit hair showing has long since become a normal state of affairs for me, but if I am honest going out with a full bush made me a little self conscious.

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(Please feel free to zoom on this photo and have a look)

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Honestly I thought that I would draw more attention than I did, but in truth amongst all the steam that surrounded the Lagoon it wasn’t too easy to see, also everyone was far too busy taking selfies to notice my little weed garden.

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However what I found most interesting, and something I did not expect or prepare for was the response I received from other women, and not in the Lagoon, but in the communal shower.

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Surely this was a safe space, all girls together, not a place for body shaming….

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Turns out I was wrong…

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I had a lot of looks while I was in the shower room, heard a lot of whispers and heard one group of women very audibly commenting, and let’s just say they weren’t telling each other how strong and sexy I looked.

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But instead of making me feel ashamed it actually made me feel sort of sad…

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In a room full of bald vaginas my natural state was something that had become something strange and unsettling to these women.

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It’s a sad state of affairs when a women’s body has been so conditioned that it isn’t recognised anymore….

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I urge you all to take a look at your own body, how much of what shapes you, was shaped by someone else? Next time you reach for the pink Bic razor ask yourself ‘who am I about to risk vaginal razor rash and ingrowing hairs for?’

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If the answer is you, then carry on my sister, but if perhaps you feel your ‘choice’ might have been to some degree influenced by what other people think you should do with you body, then have a think about if this is something you really want to do.

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The choice should always be yours, and the more women who make their own choices and respect the choices of other women, the less whispers will be heard in changing rooms, and the more we will learn to love our bodies exactly as they are, or exactly as we chose to make them.

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And this hairy lady at least will support and salute you!

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Remember it’s your body, and this may seem trivial, but it’s a small part of a much larger problem, if we keep fighting the battles one day we can win the war.

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