Ugh, guys, the aliens are back. The cystic ingrown hairs are making a cozy home out of my chin, the malicious little lifeforms. Every two weeks it cycles. I'm starting to wonder, is this a new aspect to shaving my face (which I've been doing for years) that I'm just going to have to live with?
But that's not the topic of this post. I've been thinking a lot about hiding the hirsutism we're born with versus wearing it proudly. There are women who do this, even for a brief time, and I am so in awe of them. I would feel so intimidated to meet one of them, even though we're living with exactly the same thing. I view this courage in defiance of social norms as something so far above what I'm capable of.
And then I start feeling ashamed that I hide my body hair. And even though it's not right for us to feel ugly or worthless because we don't look the way we're "supposed to look", it's not right to feel there is a "proper way" to deal with it either.
The thing is, what are people thinking about women who openly wear their beards? Even as they challenge the world's boring notions of beauty, they're still subject to certain connotations. These connotations are sometimes positive to people, not just negative. But even the positive connotations are not me. I don't like to bring that much attention to myself, either by being bearded or anything else.
The beard is not who I am, in a negative way. It is also not who I am in a positive way, if that makes sense.
To put it another way, the perceived offensiveness is not who I am. But perceived bravery and defiance is not who I am, either.
I sometimes ask myself, "What am I trying to do here?" Do I hope to be part of a movement to make women with beards acceptable to all people? Is it so we can wear our beards unashamed?
The answer is no.
I want people to stop judging based on appearance. I want them to stop thinking women with beards are ill, or crazy, or in any way less deserving than other people.
And that's a tall order, so I also want all the girls with beards to stop hating themselves and obsess over what the media tells them is wrong with them. I want them to start investing in themselves and feel comfortable being who they are.
So there we are.
Today there's a picture of my chin as it existed before my first endocrinology appointment on my tumblr. Remember, some of the other images on there may not be appropriate for minors. Not that I reblog nudity to be provocative. I reblog it to be honest. ;)
November 17, 2011
November 8, 2011
Beautiful Girl with a Beard
Ugh, what a week for me, so it's video week for you guys! This one's an interview with a woman with a beard by columnist and comedian Shazia Mirza. If I find her BBC documentary F*** Off, I'm a Hairy Woman in full, I'll share that one of these days, as well.
Thank you for finding this, Soph!
Thank you for finding this, Soph!
November 1, 2011
Guest Post: Carly of The Pink Razor Project
This week's post comes from Carly of The Pink Razor Project, which is rapidly gaining momentum and if you haven't checked it out already, what are you waiting for?
Carly responded to the optional prompt: "Do you think hirsutism is something women should be hiding?"
First, I want to thank Allerleirah for the opportunity to post on what I think is such an important topic! Hers is a great blog, and I'm excited that it's around :-)
Talking openly about my, or your, facial hair or body hair is such a personal choice... It's difficult for me to definitively say whether or not it's right for someone else to talk about it or reveal it or whatever. Who can tell someone else what's right for them?
But...
If I'm really honest...
I do NOT think hirsutism is something women *should* be hiding.
However, keep in mind that I shave my own facial hair. I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I think that for me, if I grew out my hair, it would be tough for people to swallow. I think I would end up having to explain myself a lot, and I just... don't want to have to do that.
It doesn't feel fair.
But then, on the other hand, there's a part of me that wants to be a pioneer. To educate. To break barriers and make it safer for other women like me to be open about it. And that part of me feels ashamed about the first part.
I was diagnosed with PCOS when I was 13, and since then, I have been trying to come to terms with my hair. For the first 10-ish years, I was only mortified. I just wanted it to go away. There were so many mornings in the shower (where I shave, because the steam makes it easier for me and less likely that razor burn will develop) when I found myself in complete despair, thinking, "What did I do to deserve this? Why am I being punished?" I swung between thinking those sorts of thoughts, and trying not to think about it at all. My long-term high school boyfriend had NO idea about it. And people I've told about it since, who have known me for a long time, also had no idea. I lived in constant fear that someone would see - would find me out - and so I became extremely good at hiding it. Trust me, I have done probably everything you can think of, including expensive procedures, to get rid of my hair.
Toward the end of college, and I'm not sure exactly why, I got tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of not feeling authentic. I felt like I had learned so much about myself, about the world, about others from the hair, and I had no outlet for those lessons.
So, slowly, I started telling people I trusted. Luckily, I have wonderful friends who are supportive and have been very positive about it all.
It was a coming-out process of sorts for me. I told more and more people. Not everyone, but people I thought would take it well. It was around that time that I had the idea for a documentary about the daily lives of women with facial hair. We're really quite normal (whatever that means), with the added special quality of more hair. The idea came out of wishing that there was something like that that *I* could watch, and my fascination with peoples' reactions to it.
A friend suggested doing a photo project together as a beginning. That was a fantastic, intense experience for me, mostly because she photographed me shaving (in the sink, not the shower!). That remains the only time another person has watched me do it. It's such a personal thing, and it was cathartic for another person to witness it. And not just witness it, but get it on film. And not only that, but react positively.
Shortly after that, I went to graduate school in another state, and I told more and more people about it. I went to school at kind of a crunchy east-coast place, and it wasn't hard to find supportive people who were appropriately interested.
I find that I feel so much better when people know. I feel like I can relax a little more. Be more myself. The more I tell others, the easier it gets. And the thing I keep repeating over and over in my head to feel ok about it? "It's just hair. It's just hair."
I don't think women should have to hide it, because I don't believe anyone should have to hide ANYTHING about themselves. What's the point? Don't we owe it to ourselves to be authentic? What favors are we doing by hiding? Ideally, we should feel like we have the choice of whether to remove it or not. And if some days, we feel like not removing, we should be able to feel just as confident as on the days we do.
Wouldn't that be awesome?
Carly recently posted some of her personal story on her own blog, which are an enjoyable read as well: Some History, or My Journey to Beardiness, Part I and Reflecting, or My Journey to Beardiness, Part 2.
Carly responded to the optional prompt: "Do you think hirsutism is something women should be hiding?"
Talking openly about my, or your, facial hair or body hair is such a personal choice... It's difficult for me to definitively say whether or not it's right for someone else to talk about it or reveal it or whatever. Who can tell someone else what's right for them?
But...
If I'm really honest...
I do NOT think hirsutism is something women *should* be hiding.
However, keep in mind that I shave my own facial hair. I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I think that for me, if I grew out my hair, it would be tough for people to swallow. I think I would end up having to explain myself a lot, and I just... don't want to have to do that.
It doesn't feel fair.
But then, on the other hand, there's a part of me that wants to be a pioneer. To educate. To break barriers and make it safer for other women like me to be open about it. And that part of me feels ashamed about the first part.
I was diagnosed with PCOS when I was 13, and since then, I have been trying to come to terms with my hair. For the first 10-ish years, I was only mortified. I just wanted it to go away. There were so many mornings in the shower (where I shave, because the steam makes it easier for me and less likely that razor burn will develop) when I found myself in complete despair, thinking, "What did I do to deserve this? Why am I being punished?" I swung between thinking those sorts of thoughts, and trying not to think about it at all. My long-term high school boyfriend had NO idea about it. And people I've told about it since, who have known me for a long time, also had no idea. I lived in constant fear that someone would see - would find me out - and so I became extremely good at hiding it. Trust me, I have done probably everything you can think of, including expensive procedures, to get rid of my hair.
Toward the end of college, and I'm not sure exactly why, I got tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of not feeling authentic. I felt like I had learned so much about myself, about the world, about others from the hair, and I had no outlet for those lessons.
So, slowly, I started telling people I trusted. Luckily, I have wonderful friends who are supportive and have been very positive about it all.
It was a coming-out process of sorts for me. I told more and more people. Not everyone, but people I thought would take it well. It was around that time that I had the idea for a documentary about the daily lives of women with facial hair. We're really quite normal (whatever that means), with the added special quality of more hair. The idea came out of wishing that there was something like that that *I* could watch, and my fascination with peoples' reactions to it.
A friend suggested doing a photo project together as a beginning. That was a fantastic, intense experience for me, mostly because she photographed me shaving (in the sink, not the shower!). That remains the only time another person has watched me do it. It's such a personal thing, and it was cathartic for another person to witness it. And not just witness it, but get it on film. And not only that, but react positively.
Shortly after that, I went to graduate school in another state, and I told more and more people about it. I went to school at kind of a crunchy east-coast place, and it wasn't hard to find supportive people who were appropriately interested.
I find that I feel so much better when people know. I feel like I can relax a little more. Be more myself. The more I tell others, the easier it gets. And the thing I keep repeating over and over in my head to feel ok about it? "It's just hair. It's just hair."
I don't think women should have to hide it, because I don't believe anyone should have to hide ANYTHING about themselves. What's the point? Don't we owe it to ourselves to be authentic? What favors are we doing by hiding? Ideally, we should feel like we have the choice of whether to remove it or not. And if some days, we feel like not removing, we should be able to feel just as confident as on the days we do.
Wouldn't that be awesome?
Carly recently posted some of her personal story on her own blog, which are an enjoyable read as well: Some History, or My Journey to Beardiness, Part I and Reflecting, or My Journey to Beardiness, Part 2.
October 27, 2011
Living with a Pharmacy-Tech-To-Be
A month ago, I talked about how my step-sister hinted at wanting to know what my prescriptions were for her classes. I didn't tell her. I knew she knew what Spiro is, as a diuretic, because it's on her whiteboard. She might not be so aware of the off-label usage--yet.
The other day was a great day. It was one of those days where you are full of energy and get a lot accomplished, feel really good about yourself, and treat yourself to something special (for me that would be a Filet O' Fish from McDonald's). I was buzzing around the house, chipper as anything. Across the room, my step-sister is studying. Out of nowhere, her voice carries from the family room to the kitchen: "What diuretic do you take?"
I hesitated for half a second between the sink and the refrigerator. It's hard to avoid a direct question. But as I began to wonder how to squirm my way out of answering, I realized I was not terribly bothered. And so, barely missing a beat, I called back, "Spironolactone."
"I know that one!" she exclaimed with triumph.
"I know you know," I laughed. "I've seen it on your w--"
"--Whiteboard, yeah."
I came back to the family room and we sat in companionable silence. I wasn't troubled at all.
I have to wonder, really, if the step-family hasn't noticed after all. I do walk around with a days' worth of stubble now and then, and although I figured safe to assume most people are not all that observant (I know I'm not), perhaps it's not something worth betting on. When I was taking one of my days off shaving and was wandering around the house in my pajamas, my step-dad warned me one of his friends was over and had just stepped out to get something from his car. I wasn't wearing immodest pajamas (I'm a big fan of flannel, and it's gotten quite cold here) so I did wonder for a split second if he meant something else.
Maybe I'll never know. But eventually, they'll probably figure it out if they haven't done so already. Maybe by then, I'll be totally okay with it. And so I'm not going to rush it. But I sure am not hiding it like I used to.
The other day was a great day. It was one of those days where you are full of energy and get a lot accomplished, feel really good about yourself, and treat yourself to something special (for me that would be a Filet O' Fish from McDonald's). I was buzzing around the house, chipper as anything. Across the room, my step-sister is studying. Out of nowhere, her voice carries from the family room to the kitchen: "What diuretic do you take?"
I hesitated for half a second between the sink and the refrigerator. It's hard to avoid a direct question. But as I began to wonder how to squirm my way out of answering, I realized I was not terribly bothered. And so, barely missing a beat, I called back, "Spironolactone."
"I know that one!" she exclaimed with triumph.
"I know you know," I laughed. "I've seen it on your w--"
"--Whiteboard, yeah."
I came back to the family room and we sat in companionable silence. I wasn't troubled at all.
I have to wonder, really, if the step-family hasn't noticed after all. I do walk around with a days' worth of stubble now and then, and although I figured safe to assume most people are not all that observant (I know I'm not), perhaps it's not something worth betting on. When I was taking one of my days off shaving and was wandering around the house in my pajamas, my step-dad warned me one of his friends was over and had just stepped out to get something from his car. I wasn't wearing immodest pajamas (I'm a big fan of flannel, and it's gotten quite cold here) so I did wonder for a split second if he meant something else.
Maybe I'll never know. But eventually, they'll probably figure it out if they haven't done so already. Maybe by then, I'll be totally okay with it. And so I'm not going to rush it. But I sure am not hiding it like I used to.
October 24, 2011
Al Returns
I am back from my travels. I had a wonderful time. Traveling by yourself is an amazing and challenging experience, and I learned a lot about myself--in particular that I prefer to travel with family so that memories can be shared in person. That's just who I am.
During and since, I've been ill off and on with what feels like a bad cold. The weird thing is, before the symptoms start, I begin to get really bad ingrown hairs on my chin. If you've ever had cystic acne, it's been bad like that--such deep infections that it actually misshapes my chin. I think my immune system is just run down from travel stress, work stress, and family stress, like all human beings.
It has especially sucked to have while traveling, as I'm on a tight schedule and have no choice but to go out every day. And so, I had to shave. I had to shave over these bulging, throbbing sore spots over and over, shearing off scabs so that it was impossible for them to heal (and impossible to cover over with make-up). When I got home, I had to work immediately the next day, but after that I took off two days to help my skin. The cold subsided, I began to heal, but then it started up all over again in a week or so.
So my current status is that I'm sick, sore, and feeling ugly. But I know it's temporary, and that nothing can reverse this but time--and perhaps getting back to eating healthy. And for now, at least my dog still loves me.
I see I've got lots of mail and comments to catch up on! Thank you all so much! Those of you who've checked out the new All Kinds of Fur tumblr, what do you think? Relevant to your interests? Have a great week! (I'm going back to bed.)
During and since, I've been ill off and on with what feels like a bad cold. The weird thing is, before the symptoms start, I begin to get really bad ingrown hairs on my chin. If you've ever had cystic acne, it's been bad like that--such deep infections that it actually misshapes my chin. I think my immune system is just run down from travel stress, work stress, and family stress, like all human beings.
It has especially sucked to have while traveling, as I'm on a tight schedule and have no choice but to go out every day. And so, I had to shave. I had to shave over these bulging, throbbing sore spots over and over, shearing off scabs so that it was impossible for them to heal (and impossible to cover over with make-up). When I got home, I had to work immediately the next day, but after that I took off two days to help my skin. The cold subsided, I began to heal, but then it started up all over again in a week or so.
So my current status is that I'm sick, sore, and feeling ugly. But I know it's temporary, and that nothing can reverse this but time--and perhaps getting back to eating healthy. And for now, at least my dog still loves me.
I see I've got lots of mail and comments to catch up on! Thank you all so much! Those of you who've checked out the new All Kinds of Fur tumblr, what do you think? Relevant to your interests? Have a great week! (I'm going back to bed.)
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