The first genital hair that I saw was on my mother’s vulva, full, curly and dark on her pubic mound. She wasn’t shy about being naked around me. I don’t remember any specific conversation about her pubic hair, but I’m sure we had one or several. I was curious and asked questions. My mom never hesitated to answer any question in an age-appropriate way. That was unusual for a mother in the early 1960’s.

When I was a teenage, I remember feeling proud of my full bush of dark, long, soft, and slightly wavy hair. I loved stroking my hair while masturbating. It felt soft and luxurious, like petting a long-haired cat. In my 20’s, I remember using conditioner on my pubic hair while in the shower. That made it extra soft. Full, untamed bush was the style during the late 70’s and early 80’s. I never gave a thought to grooming. It felt so good to touch.

When I was 27, I had surgery to remove an ovarian cyst. As part of the surgery prep, a nurse lifted my hospital gown and proceeded to shave my public mound without warning. I felt nervous and uncomfortable, but I didn’t speak up. I thought about my mother’s experience with being shaved before giving birth. She told me that she didn’t like the stubble growing back. When she had my younger brother, she waited as long as possible before going to the hospital so there wouldn’t be time to shave her before delivery. “Don’t let them shave you before you have a baby,” she warned me. I never imagined that I might be shaved before this surgery. I don’t remember being asked, but even if I had been, I would have agreed. I was a compliant good girl and hadn’t learned to speak up for myself yet.

I was so disappointed when my pubic hair grew back short, tight, and curly. It felt coarse under my fingers. No amount of conditioner restored it back to its softness. I started to groom a little after that, shaving along my thighs and inguinal crease, so that my hair stayed contained.

When I received oral sex for the first time in my thirties, my boyfriend let me know afterward that he prefers a completely bare pussy. I’d read about “Brazilians” in Cosmopolitan magazine but waxing just sounded too painful. I told him that I’d consider it.  “If you want more oral, you’ll get rid of your hair,” he countered. Shaving off my pubic hair instead of waxing seemed like a small sacrifice to get more oral sex and please my boyfriend. I’d get aroused just shaving myself as I fantasized about his tongue circling my clit. I remember how sensitive my newly bare skin felt against my panties, and that got me wet. Interestingly, my boyfriend wasn’t eager to go down on me as promised after my compromise. Yet my bare pussy became part of my erotic fantasies based on my few experiences with oral and letting my partner’s preference control my body choice.

Throughout my thirties and forties, I kept my vulva completely free of hair, usually by shaving or sometimes using Nair. I never went on a date or had partner sex without being groomed. It became my norm based on outside expectations and my own fantasies. I conformed my behavior to fit both.

During a time in my early fifties while I was unpartnered, I let my pubic hair grow back. In addition to being coarse and curly, hormonal changes after menopause caused my hair to be sparse and lighter in color. My pubic hair looked and felt foreign to me. I compared my vulva to a balding man trying to do a come over with thinning hair. So I went back to shaving it off again.

I found the courage to get my pubic hair waxed after a conversation with women in my first Bodysex workshop. A professional esthetician that I knew from the kink scene did my first wax at a high-end salon. Her expertise made it a very positive experience. She carefully plucked any stray hairs that the wax didn’t catch. It wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d imagined.

After being freshly waxed, I loved touching my velvety soft pubic mound and outer labia without stubble. It was expensive to maintain, unless I went to the cheaper waxing clinics but then I had to deal with more ingrown hairs that were painful. At the start of the pandemic, I stopped waxing and shaved again. When I ended my relationship with my boyfriend, I let my hair grow free and wild.

Over the last couple of years, I occasionally buzzed my pubic hair with clippers. I like the feeling of the short hairs on my fingertips as I stroke my labia. It’s not at all about appearance, it’s about what I prefer when I touch my vulva.

A couple of weeks ago before my last Bodysex workshop, I made the conscious decision to let my bush be ungroomed. I wanted to present my pubic hair in its natural state. The idea felt liberating. When I showed my vulva during Genital Show and Tell, I felt only love and no shame about the appearance of my sparse yet wild and untamed hair that framed my vulva. During Vulva Massage, I did notice that touching my long strands of hair didn’t feel as nice under my fingertips as shorter buzz-cut hair. So after I took my shower in the morning before workshop day two, I sat in front of the mirror with my clippers in the genital show and tell spot. I trimmed back my vulva hair until it felt just right.

Just as my body has changed through the decades, so has my pubic hair. I’ve felt grief over some of the changes and adapted my grooming to find a new preference. From the very beginning, how my vulva felt under my fingertips was a priority. Outside influences from partners and media did have an impact on some of my choices. Today, I prioritize my own preference. My vulva is mine and I love to touch her.

Art: Origin of the World by Gustav Corbet
Public Domain – Wikimedia Commons

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