I remember being around 7 on vacation with my family, and naturally spending it mostly in bathing suits and shorts. At this point, I was aware of the fact that other little girls didn’t have much/any hair on their legs, arms, lower backs, and I did. I’d shared my concern of feeling different with my mom, but the consensus was that I was still too young to shave completely. That morning, my mom made peace with the compromise of taking her electric personal razor, like one used for facial fuzz., to “lessen” my hair by semi trimming it. I can see that moment clear as day now. It took her forever, poor thing, but I remember feeling that much better about myself and my body, even if only the hair was just a little less. Up until the age of 23, I had never completely shaved my forearms, because I never really felt the need to. That was until I had to have one of my them shaved smooth on set for a photoshoot. So of course, I went home and shaved the other one to match. I started to feel the idea slowly sink into my brain that, maybe this is better, maybe I look better, maybe this is more acceptable. Thankfully though, I hate the process of shaving in general, so this new step definitely wasn’t going to become permanent in my routine. But more importantly, it woke me up and reminded me that I have zero shame that my arms may be hairier than the general “standard” women are held to.
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