I am so going to get nasty pervs on my blog from this post. Hi nasty pervs.
Let's talk about pubic hair shall we? In a general sort of way of course. People in polite company don't tend to talk about this subject. Hell, people in impolite company don't often talk about it either. And why not? My theory? It's icky and embarassing. Not icky in an "ew gross" kind of way but more in an "uncomfortable, I don't want to think about it" way. If that makes any sense.
Why would I find something natural that everyone, male and female, has icky and embarassing? I don't know. But I'm pretty darn sure I'm not the only one. Part of the problem is that in the U.S., whenever you see a naked woman, she is virtually hairless. That is not the way most women actually are. But how would we know that? All we know is that Exhibit A: goddess-like woman on screen, does not match up with Exhibit B: Less than goddess-like self in reality. The result of this comparison can be a quest to make self more like Exhibit A, or, in my case, a complete and utter ignoring of the area.
To be honest, I don't really know what to do with it. And I'm also kind of lazy. Plus, no matter what happens in my nether regions groomingwise, I'm still not going to look like Exhibit A. So fuck it, pardon my french.
Up until very recently - like this weekend recently - I had a little bit of an issue with pubic hair. I and my mons pubis had sort of a 'don't ask, don't tell' arrangement. What you don't know can't hurt you. I kept that area hidden (unless of course there was some sort of, ahem, action going on in that area at that moment). Even at times when everything else was pretty much exposed I'd cover up somehow. Roll over on my stomach, pull the sheet up, whatever.
But, if I've learned anything from my relationship with Friendster Guy, at some point my issues will rear their ugly heads and poor FG will have a blubbering girlfriend on his hands. Except that's not what happened folks. I am growing. You'd be so proud.
He's very blunt, that Friendster Guy, and I'm learning not to take the up-front addressing of things personally or as a judgement call. Things he says are more like statements. Neither good, nor bad, just statements. Perhaps he is judging but it is not a harsh criticism. Without going into too much detail, we had an actual discussion about pubic hair. While Exhibit B was on display. In the past this would not have happened. No way, no how. As it was, it was not the most comfortable of moments for me. I wanted to hide. I even covered my eyes as if that would, as in the case of boogie monsters, make me invisible. But I lived through it. Previously, I would have crawled into the fetal position and commenced a tearful self-berating pity fest. You know the kind. I probably would have been so uncomfortable I might have even left the premises in a huff of indignation and utter embarassment. Something along the lines of what I imagine I'd do if I was at a pool in 9th grade and my top fell off. That sort of horror.
But this was not what I experienced. Because FG is not saying anything to be mean. Unfortunately, in the past, there have been people who have said things simply for the sake of putting me down or making themselves feel more powerful. Perhaps my disregard for grooming of that area is in protest to the wants or needs of someone else. Screw you buddy. I don't care if you think it's unattractive or what-have-you. This is the one area over which I have control. If you want any part of it you're just gonna have to deal.
But FG is not like that. I trust him. I trust that he will not take my vulnerability and abuse it. It's hard to learn to trust, even after many, many years. It's easier to ignore things, or feign confidence. I didn't realize how much I didn't trust until I let down my guard with FG. To be fair, my X was not unkind (he was not the source of my criticism). But he also never pushed me to face things either. We lived with consistent indifference and mutual ignorance of anything that might actually make us feel something. That is not possible with FG and I'm learning to appreciate it. One reason is that we don't know each other. We each have three decades of information and experience to share with the other and it's going to take a long time. And sometimes that learning process will dig up old issues. More mine than his so far, but I know he has a couple hiding in there somewhere.
So, pubic hair. I may not become a consistent groomer. But I no longer fear it. Or wish it wasn't part of my body. And I'd have to think that's a good thing.
Let's talk about pubic hair shall we? In a general sort of way of course. People in polite company don't tend to talk about this subject. Hell, people in impolite company don't often talk about it either. And why not? My theory? It's icky and embarassing. Not icky in an "ew gross" kind of way but more in an "uncomfortable, I don't want to think about it" way. If that makes any sense.
Why would I find something natural that everyone, male and female, has icky and embarassing? I don't know. But I'm pretty darn sure I'm not the only one. Part of the problem is that in the U.S., whenever you see a naked woman, she is virtually hairless. That is not the way most women actually are. But how would we know that? All we know is that Exhibit A: goddess-like woman on screen, does not match up with Exhibit B: Less than goddess-like self in reality. The result of this comparison can be a quest to make self more like Exhibit A, or, in my case, a complete and utter ignoring of the area.
To be honest, I don't really know what to do with it. And I'm also kind of lazy. Plus, no matter what happens in my nether regions groomingwise, I'm still not going to look like Exhibit A. So fuck it, pardon my french.
Up until very recently - like this weekend recently - I had a little bit of an issue with pubic hair. I and my mons pubis had sort of a 'don't ask, don't tell' arrangement. What you don't know can't hurt you. I kept that area hidden (unless of course there was some sort of, ahem, action going on in that area at that moment). Even at times when everything else was pretty much exposed I'd cover up somehow. Roll over on my stomach, pull the sheet up, whatever.
But, if I've learned anything from my relationship with Friendster Guy, at some point my issues will rear their ugly heads and poor FG will have a blubbering girlfriend on his hands. Except that's not what happened folks. I am growing. You'd be so proud.
He's very blunt, that Friendster Guy, and I'm learning not to take the up-front addressing of things personally or as a judgement call. Things he says are more like statements. Neither good, nor bad, just statements. Perhaps he is judging but it is not a harsh criticism. Without going into too much detail, we had an actual discussion about pubic hair. While Exhibit B was on display. In the past this would not have happened. No way, no how. As it was, it was not the most comfortable of moments for me. I wanted to hide. I even covered my eyes as if that would, as in the case of boogie monsters, make me invisible. But I lived through it. Previously, I would have crawled into the fetal position and commenced a tearful self-berating pity fest. You know the kind. I probably would have been so uncomfortable I might have even left the premises in a huff of indignation and utter embarassment. Something along the lines of what I imagine I'd do if I was at a pool in 9th grade and my top fell off. That sort of horror.
But this was not what I experienced. Because FG is not saying anything to be mean. Unfortunately, in the past, there have been people who have said things simply for the sake of putting me down or making themselves feel more powerful. Perhaps my disregard for grooming of that area is in protest to the wants or needs of someone else. Screw you buddy. I don't care if you think it's unattractive or what-have-you. This is the one area over which I have control. If you want any part of it you're just gonna have to deal.
But FG is not like that. I trust him. I trust that he will not take my vulnerability and abuse it. It's hard to learn to trust, even after many, many years. It's easier to ignore things, or feign confidence. I didn't realize how much I didn't trust until I let down my guard with FG. To be fair, my X was not unkind (he was not the source of my criticism). But he also never pushed me to face things either. We lived with consistent indifference and mutual ignorance of anything that might actually make us feel something. That is not possible with FG and I'm learning to appreciate it. One reason is that we don't know each other. We each have three decades of information and experience to share with the other and it's going to take a long time. And sometimes that learning process will dig up old issues. More mine than his so far, but I know he has a couple hiding in there somewhere.
So, pubic hair. I may not become a consistent groomer. But I no longer fear it. Or wish it wasn't part of my body. And I'd have to think that's a good thing.
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