A few weeks ago I decided I was tired of shaving. I was having razor issues, my skin felt raw and I was done. Society has taught me that I must be hairless and so I hate hair anywhere not on my head. There is absolutely nothing wrong with having hair, in fact it's natural to have hair and it should be considered strange to be without. But I have come to hate the feel of it and if you aren't willing to shave, an option is waxing. 

I booked an appointment, grew the hair out to the appropriate length and went in. The lady was fabulous, she was friendly, conversationally, and kept me distracted while ripping out chunks of hair. I left with a new bottle of hair inhibitor and smooth but tender skin. 

Fast forward two weeks to a new experience - ingrowns. My legs, which are always slightly hair, have never bothered me beyond the need to shave. Growing out the hair for the wax caused a fair bit of itch, but nothing too intense. Ingrowns though, were a completely foreign and horrifying thing. I've had them elsewhere but never here. They are itchy, with bright little red dots. You can see my pores from miles away. I exfoliate, use the hair inhibitor oil, smoother them in lotion and NOTHING. It's like hundred of little bits that just needle you all day long.  

I go in for my next appointment. The lady is confused by the ingrowns, she asks if I am exfoliating or drinking enough water or using the right kind of lotion. Yes, yes yes but WHY did this happen. Neither of us have any idea. As she starts the process, I get this feeling. This sensation that I just don't want to be here. I just don't want to do this. I don't want to pay for torture, I mean, it's someone applying hot wax and then ripping it off! Not exactly what I would call a spa day. So three strips in, I say no more and I leave. I have never in my life walked out of an appointment. I left the lovely lady a tip (because she truly was amazing) and I walked back to my car in the rain. The whole idea of me going was for my self care, to make my life a little easier. It didn't turn out that way. Acknowledging that that was okay, was hard. Harder than it should have been. 

I don't know where I stand with the hair on my body, but I guess it's time to find out. 

What's your thoughts on body hair?

I'm a lifestyle blogger, covering deep subjects including body images, battles with food, and overcoming how I was raised. I try to be as authentic as possible and I don’t sugar coat how I see things.