I admit it, I have man hairs

What better way to start this blog than by admitting I have man hairs? (Sometimes I really question my lack of a filter online.) Don’t worry though, I’m writing this post for a good reason: 1) it makes me laugh, especially when resulting in situations like the image above and 2) to let any other women out there who are traumatized by their man hairs know that they are definitely not alone.

So wait, what do you mean by “man hairs”?

Well, I don’t have man hairs in that I was born a man or anything of that sort. I’m just a woman who was blessed with very hairy genes from her father’s side of the family and as a result I have hair in many places that isn’t deemed desirable for women. Apart from the typical leg and armpit hair, I have to battle my body’s attempts at a unibrow, a mustache, one long colorless jaw hair that randomly grows overnight, three or four dark chest hairs, and, most recently, nipple hairs. Yup, all the hair in all the places. I’m one special lady.

Luckily, I’m not as bothered by my facial hair as I was when I was younger. Sure, I still get moody when people point it out to me. (Thanks ten-year-old nephew for loudly exclaiming “I didn’t know girls could grow mustaches!” while standing with me in a long line at a water park last summer.) But generally speaking I’m aware of my hairiness and I accept that it’s apart of who I am, though I do still use my arsenal of tweezers, bleaches, and razors to try to keep it all under control. (To those who just rock it even in the face of other’s judgments, I salute you.)

But wait, how can you laugh about your man hairs?

I think the thing is, oftentimes in situations we’re mortified in the moment about something that’s happened, but afterwards we realize just how ridiculous it all is and how little it all matters. Take the image at the top of this post, for example.

The last time I visited Dave, my fiancé, we spent a week in Cornwall and found this lovely American-style restaurant that we ate at multiple times. It was in a basement and had romantic candle lighting and was generally empty, so oftentimes when we ate there it felt like a lovely dinner for the two of us. During this one visit, we were sitting across from each other and looking in each other’s eyes while a candle flickered on the table and it was a perfectly romantic moment… until Dave reached over and attempted to remove a man hair sticking up out of my shirt.

I admit it, I have man hairs || Blog post and illustration by Asti @atypicalnarrative

From Dave’s point of view, it looked like just a stray string that he could easily remove (and that would’ve been lovely if it that were the case). Instead my eyes followed his hand and I internally cringed as I watched him pull the black string AND REALIZE IT WAS ATTACHED TO MY SKIN! I quickly hit his hand away and cried my embarrassment, and oh what an awkward that moment was. But, lucky Dave, I’ve always been pretty upfront about my man hairs so this wasn’t anything overly shocking (Oh no, I agreed to marry a girl with hair! Curses!) and I took care of it once we got back to the hotel room.

So yes, being a woman with man hairs can lead to some not-so-fun encounters in the moment, and it definitely takes a bit of work to keep on top of if man hairs aren’t your thing, but looking back at laughing at yourself and accepting that this is a part of who you are makes it all a little more worth it. (Or at least, that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself until I figure out a way to swap my dad’s hairy genes for my mom’s.)

Okay, your turn! Does anyone else relate to my man hair woes? Please tell me I’m not alone! I mean, obviously you don’t HAVE to share because I realize other people on the internet have standards, but if you do have a similar story you want to tell or just share your pity for my hairiness, I’ll gladly read and respond.

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10 thoughts on “I admit it, I have man hairs

  1. Oh, Asti. I CAN RELATE SO MUCH. I have boob hair, too, and stomach hair, mustache, and chin hair. It’s great. But, I was kind of unaware of the taboo nature of facial hair (let alone body hair) until I was a senior in high school. To be fair, my mind was overwhelmed by school, so no one could have told me to control this monstrous man hair. The only thing I knew about these things was that I should shave my arm pits, because I sweat a lot. So, I did that.

    Now, I don’t shave my arms, and rarely shave my legs. I wear hijab, so I am covered everywhere but my face, hands, and feet. Mwahahah. It’s the best. Aside from spiritual bonus points and all that, I like that I choose when I’d like to shave. Speaking of which, have you ever waxed or used sugar waving? IT HURTS SO MUCH, ASTI. I hate it. So, I just shave.

    Ugh. You’re so awesome. I’m loving your blog.

    1. YES DINA, LET US REJOICE IN OUR MAN HAIR WAYS TOGETHER! (Haha but seriously, thank you for commenting. Every minute without anyone assuring me I wasn’t alone was another one in which I thought maybe it was just me and that I belong in the circus. Don’t get me wrong, I would do it for the money. But still, I rather just laugh about it on a blog. ;))

      Gosh, I wish I didn’t have to deal with the facial hair taboo in high school. I remember as early as freshman year (I’m pretty sure it was that year since it was the only one PE was required), one of the “cool”, “bad” boys in my grade made a comment about my mustache in front of everyone and I was mortified. It was never enough to really become a big thing, I think I caught more grief for wearing all black, but it still made me a bit self-conscious.

      On top of that, my loving parents were always quick to point out when my ‘stache was overly visible. So even if I wasn’t thinking about it for a while, they would eventually say something like “Man, it looks like it’s time to take care of your facial hair” and that would make me self-conscious about it. I know now they were just trying to look out for me, to warn me that if they were noticing it others might, but it always drove me crazy. If they didn’t want me to have facial hair, they should’ve tried harder to choose better genes to pass on!

      Lucky you that you’re able to avoid thinking about most of it since it’s out of sight! I’m just take care of it when it’s enough to bother me now and that’s about it. My fiancé knows what he’s gotten himself into so I don’t feel the need to impress anyone else. 😛

      Oh, and yes, I’ve tried the waxing thing! When I was a teen that was my go-to method for getting my facial hair removed. I HATED it though, especially since the people I went to to take care of it would often drop globs of wax into my actual hair. Either that or they would miss large strips of hair. I just do the bleaching for my upper lip now which is fine enough and the rest I either shave or tweeze. I don’t know how girls put themselves through the pain of waxing on a regular basis, especially in the more sensitive areas. That’s too much for me.

  2. Haha that image makes me laugh, you’re such a good drawer!

    That’s awesome that you’re not letting anyone’s judgement change the way you view yourself. I think that’s really important. I have the one colourless hair that randomly grows on my cheek and I always forget about it until I try and move it off of my face and realise it’s attached…

    I usually wax more for convenience for me. I haaaate shaving because I always have prickly legs the next day and it really bothers me, especially in summer. I get really self conscious about it I guess, but also I feel more comfortable after waxing. I’ve gotten used to waxing now and I always feel so refreshed afterwards. It doesn’t hurt as much but that might be because I’ve gotten into a routine so there isn’t as MUCH hair to be removed every time.

    I love that you’re owning it!

    1. Ooh, I’m glad I’m not the only one with that one random colorless hair! (Though really, if you google it, it does seem to be quite a normal thing! Some even have them grow right in the middle of their foreheads and consider themselves to be unicorns in training… haha.)

      And waxing, ouch. I mean, I get the convenience thing for sure and the pain of it really is manageable (at least it was when I did it for my facial hair), but I don’t think it will ever be my personal removal method of choice. I find shaving so much easier. Of course, I don’t really ever notice my prickly legs the next day and I rarely wear shorts/show a lot of legs in the summer so I don’t get as bothered by it as you might. To each their own!

      I think it’s good you’ve gotten into a routine with it though. I think that’s the thing with unwanted hair. It’s a pain but once you figure out what works for you, it’s not too bad to manage. (That and I almost always feel like I don’t have a right to complain about my hair when I think about those with hypertrichosis. Those people deserve all the love in the world for having to deal with their hair like they do.)

  3. ARGH UGH YES. Curse our cultural obsession with smooth, hairless females!! I remember being absolutely mortified by my natural furriness, before realizing that pretty much every woman in my family had the same experience – thanks genetics! 😉

    1. Haha, yes! It definitely does help knowing you’re not alone, especially if you can go to someone within the family to talk about your troubles. Unfortunately my mom isn’t cursed with quite the same level of hairiness so she often calls me a freak rather than help, but I know it still comes from a place of love. 😉

  4. I… cannot stop laughing, oh my goodness. Asti, I think you would get along beautifully with my younger sister – she too inherited the intensely, overly hairy gene (this time from our mother’s side, while I had the good fortune of inheriting the hairless gene from our balding father!). When she was younger she had a the softest patch of hair on her forehead – not quite a unibrow, but just a bit of baby hair left over in the middle, which was the most adorable thing.

    These days she is nearing 13 & quite preoccupied with shaving, waxing, & otherwise removing every stray bit of hair that pops up on her body. I know once she grows up & gains a bit of perspective, though, that she’ll be able to look back & laugh… & perhaps that’ll be the right time to send her this post, haha. Thank you for sharing your experiences, friend – I think there are so many women who need the reminder that all of the hair is only a normal & beautiful part of their bodies. ❤

    1. I consider it a success if I can make others laugh with my ramblings so thanks for commenting Topaz! 🙂

      You should definitely consider yourself lucky that you didn’t inherit the hairy gene in your family. If I were your sister I probably would’ve grown up holding a grudge against you just for your lack of hair alone. I myself just have two older brothers who are both just as hairy, though obviously it doesn’t affect them in the same way as males are allowed to be hairy in our society. XP

      But yes, hopefully someday your sister can learn to laugh at it like I did. I find life’s a lot more fun if you can laugh at yourself. 🙂

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