I'm Never Shaving My Legs Again!

... for a few weeks, at least.

 

Funny story: in seventh grade, I made the football cheerleading squad. I had just moved to the area (North Dakota), and my parents figured it'd be a great way to make friends. For the first few weeks, it was ... twenty bubbly girls got together each day after school to practice cheers and chants in our matching blue sweatpants and white t-shirts. It was the first time I was in the "cool" club, and I loved it.

A few days before the first game, we had our first dress rehearsal. As I walked into the gym, decked out in my navy blue skirt, white shirt and keds, the sudden silence knocked me over. Girls began to whisper and giggle.

Is there something on my face? Did I put my skirt on backward?

No, these 12-year-old girls were laughing at my hairy legs.

Come on! I hadn't even really hit puberty by that point; the hairs were still super-fine and ultra-blonde ... what's the big deal?

Understand, this was 15 years ago. My parents did a fabulous job of preserving my innocence — no makeup, no shaving and no boys (eww, what are those!?) until later. I was still a child, after all. I can only imagine what it would be like to be a pre-teen in the Hannah Montana/iCarly era.

I didn't realize it at the time, but these girls had the "bitch" bred in to them early. I was a laughing stock by game night, and decided to quit the team a few months later and never wear shorts or skirts again. (yeah, that lasted all of a few weeks!)

(It's worth mentioning that shortly after, I joined a writing club instead. So really, it's their "fault" I'm a writer today. Thanks, ladies!)

Fast forward two years, to ninth grade. I was finally allowed to shave my legs (but only to my knee. Hah, I wore mom down). The single-bladed BIC disposable was a magic eraser; I watched the hair fall to the bottom of the shower. I even cut myself a few times, but didn't care. And as most teenagers do, I didn't listen to my mother — I went mid-thigh, thank you. (Big mistake, as I'd learn later)

As soon as I was done, I ran down to my best friend's house to show off my silky gams. Ahh, it was a glorious time ... until the stubble grew in.

Here we are — over a decade later — and I continue the incessant chore of mowing down unwanted hair.

Last night would have been no exception. I was ordered to take a relaxing bubble bath. I looked down at my legs — it had been over a week since last shaving them, yikes! — and reached for the razor. As I did, though, an epiphany washed over me: just DON'T DO IT.

... and so I didn't.

Here's why:

1. what's the point? I'm not trying to attract men with my super-awesome legs; my husband loves me for who I am, hairy legs and all. Plus, i'm just lazy.

2. you want HOW MUCH for this? Razors are expensive, plain and simple. I'm not even talking about the super-duty 7-blade vibrating ones; even the most simple shavers cost more than a meal or two. Not worth it.

3. warmth, please. Yes, contrary to popular belief, Texas DOES get cold in the fall and winter. At least enough to where I don't want to wear leg-revealing outfits.

4. stubble hurts. No matter how well you prepare your legs, shave or lotion after, the painful, goose-bumpy stubble will still occcasionally occur. The razor burns and bumps come out full-force, and anything that touches it makes you cringe. No thank you.

5. I am secure with myself. 15 years ago, I put heavy stock in what others thought of me. And sure, I still do (and probably always will), but at the end of the day, I don't need to justify my LEGS to you. I am a beautiful person; I don't need smooth legs to prove that. *NOTE* I don't plan on prancing around with hairy legs for all the world to see. They will be fully covered at all times in public. Promise.

Will I really NEVER shave again? LOL, probably not. (I'm from hairy German stock, after all ... thankfully it's blonde!) When the ice melts, seasons change and/or cute dresses come out, the hair will undoubtedly come off once again (if not before). What's changed? I won't do it because I think I HAVE to; I'll do it if and when I WANT to, for me.

Final thought: Why is it that guys can have hairy legs, but women can't? Just curious.

In the meantime, anyone wanna boycott with me? If so, what are YOUR reasons?

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