once, a man i was incidentally dating asked me to shave my flower petals.
not because it was causing any particular problem, mind you. he just decided to make his preference known. shortly after the first time he even saw me naked, even.
he didn't seem to object to anything else.
had the nerve to threaten the withholding of head.
too bad i wasn't pressed.
head's always best when i give a shit about the mind between my thighs, and he didn't quite qualify.
i didn't even care enough to explain that i'd earned every one of those hairs.
i remember changing in the girls' locker room at camp some 20odd years ago and having the girls look at me like i was nuts 'cause i had hair there.
like most women who've had a similar experience--i also had to contend with being "too tall", having too deep a voice, etc.--for years i considered myself some kind of freak.
then, one day, the opposite sex began to consider most of my previously offending traits "sexy".
the hair now proved i was grown. it was even deemed pretty, thanks to my complexion/coloring. it inspired love names, interested stares, and lingering lovemaking sessions.
so, while i totally and completely support necessary waxes, appropriate trimmings, and all the usual generalized grooming and hygiene habits, i'll politely tell you to go fk yourself for attempting to de-fuzz my blossom over some bullshit notion of what it's "supposed" to look like.
it ain't like i'm fittin into a bikini any time soon...
addendum: and look what i find on postsecret just after posting this.
whoever you are, free yourself sistren.