Day 77. Pubic Shaming

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I don’t know about you, but that first pubic hair fascinated me. I swear it popped up out of nowhere. One day, nothing. Next day, a fully grown hair “down there” (as certain fully grown male legislators call the female reproductive system). I kept touching and tugging it as if to verify its existence. Something was happening. Something that had to do with me remembering, to this day, the last time I fell and scraped my knee (kid), and the first time my laugh came out as a frothy giggle that startled me (teenager) in front of the cutest boy in my neighborhood, “Danny Bonaduce from The Partridge Family”-funny, but with brown hair and no freckles.

Like popcorn in our hot, greasy, yellow-domed popper, one blossomed into a dozen, which blossomed into fifty, which became a bowl–I mean bush. Lickedy split. And from that day, it became clear to me they had to go. No matter that these particular hairs evolved naturally to be there. A curly fortress, you might say, or forest, grown to protect our urethral orifice, vagina, and anus. Important job. So important that by the age of say, fourteen, I hated it. Disgusting, kinky, flattened, thick, daring to pass my bikini line, oh god, on my labia (where guys’ faces dove, I feverishly hoped), blatant bush. Gag me with a spoon.

Why? What made me and millions of girls and women loath pubic hair, pussy hair, pussies, whatever? Spend untold dollars and hours removing it and douching, washing, and spraying between our legs to smell like Monet’s garden, not our garden? The “IT” in the previous paragraph: my home grown fucked-upedness, commercials, magazine ads (Summer’s Eve Feminine Wash? Seriously? The original sinner in the name), movies, TV shows, movie and TV stars, boys, men, porn, religion.

Damn religion. As soon as Eve tempted Adam with an apple, women got slapped with the “dirty girl” label. A morality tale. Like the bible, men contradict themselves as to whether being a dirty girl is bad or good. Luckily for them, they can have us both ways.

A dirty girl who smells like Monet’s garden.

2 thoughts on “Day 77. Pubic Shaming

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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