Your Pubic Hair Isn’t Normal, Here’s Why…

Your pubic hair isn’t normal, here’s why…There’s no such thing as normal!

Chapter 1: A lone wander through pubic woods

I can’t count number of times I have been told I am “lucky” to have dark, thick hair. It is lovely to be told this, a real confidence booster - I have achieved one of the millions of generic beauty standards in society. 

Well done, hair, for growing on my head!

Yet, strangely, I have never felt particularly lucky when the same class of dark, thick hair has forested on my face, arms, legs, back, stomach, or pubic area. Especially when I leave my leg hair to grow naturally and, almost without exception, a friend or family member will feel the need to comment. I have heard “ooo you’re a bit spiky”, “Jesus, Mol”, or “are you growing an extra layer for winter” more times than I care to remember. For the most part I expect these comments, because it seems to be the norm that women are hairless, shiny, smooth creatures - any razor advertisement will confirm this for me. 

Unfortunately, I will never be that perfectly bald image of a woman because whether I shave, wax, or use creams, my skin ends up damaged. Yes, I regularly exfoliate, it doesn’t seem to help. I think this is a side-effect of that "lucky” thick, dark hair...what a charm. What I am trying to summarise here is this: there is a lot of irony in the fact that I am achieving a beauty standard in one way, but in the exact same way I am looked upon as unkempt or “one of ‘those’ feminists” (whatever this means?), if I let my natural hair grow on my body.

I remember, aged 11, being sat cross-legged at school next to a sixth former, who had incredibly smooth, hairless legs. I think it was this moment that I became self-aware, I really am a beast. I went home, stole a razor from my sister’s bathroom and dry-shaved my legs (incredibly unsuccessfully) for the first time. For the next approximate decade, I would endure: in-grown hairs, dry skin, chemical burns (from creams- be careful!), and a hole through my skin (from a particularly bad in-grown hair), all to the avail of hairlessness. Hurrah, another beauty standard I have achieved.

Screw you, hair, for growing anywhere but my head!

Luckily, a decade later, I don’t give a flying pube what people think about my body hair because it is mine. It isn’t unclean, I shower every day. It isn’t a sign of not looking after myself, I do it to give my skin a break. I'm not trying to prove a point; I just don’t see the big deal.

I wasted too much time worrying about what other people would think if they saw a glimpse of stubble on my legs or bikini-line, or what a partner might think if they were faced with bush (god forbid). Now, I couldn’t care less if a partner wants my pubic area to look as smooth as a baby’s bum because it won’t. I have gone through puberty (shock), I am a grown woman and I deserve to feel appreciated as one. That is not to say that I have anything against removing body hair, because I don’t and I still do it- just when I want to- and I really have no interest in what other people do with theirs because why in the holy hell would I?

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Chapter 2: A gathering in pubic woods

Disclaimer: 1) I will be making some broad/bold statements, backed by the data in this summary, BUT ultimately every person is an individual and gender differences are not a definitive way to explore individual attitudes towards pubic hair. 2) The sample taken is largely from white-British individuals between the ages of 20-25 and so may not reflect the wider population.

I know through having conversations with friends that I am not the only one who finds removing my pubic hair a cut-infused, rash-provoking waste-of-time. So, to gauge a little more about other people’s opinions I turned to my Instagram followers and posted a set of questions for identifying-females and for identifying-males. The general overview can be found in the summary above.

Firstly, the difference in number of responding females vs. males is something to note:

1) It is possible that simply more females saw my questions.
2) Potentially, pubic hair is something that males aren’t as comfortable talking about, especially with a woman that they know.
3) It is possible that women have had a longer battle with beauty standards and so feel more inclined to express their experiences.

Things that surprised me:
87% of men reported removing their pubic hair, with men removing their hair more regularly than women, and almost a quarter have felt pressured to change by a partner. However, there are fewer men likely to remove it specifically for a sexual event, there are even fewer who have felt under pressure to remove it, and far fewer who were self-conscious during puberty.

From this I have assumed a few things:
1) Approximately half of the male responders face similar pressures as women toward removing pubic hair. It appears that this is largely driven by sexual intimacy.
2) Some of these men regularly remove their pubic hair because they prefer it like that and not for the sake of anyone else.
3) They remove it for physical comfort over pressure to be aesthetically conformative.

Things that did not surprise me:
Over 90% of women remove their pubic hair, especially in preparation for a sexual event, and have felt pressure to remove it, with over a third having felt pressured by a partner. However, fewer women than men remove their hair regularly. In spite of the fact that over 80% of female responders have felt embarrassed by their hair during puberty.

My thoughts on these results:
1) It is the norm for women to remove their pubic hair, especially in preparation for sexual intimacy.
2) As far fewer women regularly remove their pubic hair, it suggests that they remove it because of the pressure from others, rather than for themselves.
3) Embarrassment about pubic hair begins at puberty for most women.

Another question I asked during this series of polls was “what age were you when you started removing your pubic hair?”

For women this ranged from 10 - 19 years, with a mode of 13. For men this ranged from 13 – 20 years, with a mode of 17. These ages are, of course, reliant on what age each individual went through puberty. However, combined with the vast gender difference in whether the responders were embarrassed by their pubic hair during puberty, the answers are poignant for many reasons.

Adolescents and teenagers have to endure a number of physical and mental changes, such as puberty and becoming independent. Not only this, but they have to endure these changes with an under-developed brain, causing two potentially negative outcomes: poor mental control, and a higher response to stress. Yes, teenagers can be the worst but sometimes it’s worth giving them a break because they go through quite a lot.

In light of these changes: I think it is dangerous for young girls (and boys!), to feel so embarrassed/disgusted by the first thing that naturally changes in their bodies, that they immediately change it. I believe that it can start a cycle of insecurity that natural change warrants cosmetic change. Or, set a standard that someone’s natural self is not enough. These are things that may not have felt glaringly obvious during puberty but can also snowball to much later chronic feelings of inadequacy or anxiety. 

So, where do these adolescents get the idea that hair is bad? For most, it is observing their family, and friends, as well as exposure to social media. However, many young people turn to porn to try and de-riddle what is “attractive” and are faced with hollywoods left and right. But this is a mistake, because sex and attraction are nothing like porn, isn’t that right Mr. Pizza Delivery Man? Chidera Eggerue, an author and the guide on the BBC documentary, ‘Bring Back the Bush’, demystifies the hairless nature of porn. She speaks with industry professionals who explain that baldness aids better exposure for penetration shots. This, along with countless other arguments, is why porn should not be used for reference.

I hope that by writing this article I can have some impact in normalising body hair for everyone. My parting advice for anyone struggling with their hair: it is natural, it grows to protect your body because it is meant to, and it is yours; so, do what you want with it. 

One more time for y’all at the back: DO WHAT YOU WANT TO, IT’S YOUR BODY.

Lots of love,

Your hairy sister, Mol <3


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Written by Molly Lajtha

I am currently unemployed, after graduating from the University of Bristol in July with a 2.1 in Psychology with Innovation. Apart from applying for jobs, I take my lovely dog on walks and run an Instagram cooking blog, called Molsmunch.






OpinionJessica Blackwell