I don’t know how and when it happened that hair started growing on my vulva, it never bothered me, it was part of it. I remember how it was naked, and then all of a sudden it was covered with thick, soft brown fur. The memory of hair growing on other parts of my body lives much more vividly in me. I got lots of black, strong hairs on my white skin, and others commented on it with fondness. The attention, being different from others, the jokes of my peers, the loud celebration of the few hairs that appeared on my armpits on the street, or the problems of my schoolmates blessed with three blond hairs about hair removal were unpleasant. I tried to hide it, which was quite difficult, especially in a gym suit during gym class, or in a skirt, shorts, swimsuit. If there was one thing I hated about my body, it was hair.

While I became a hair removal expert who tried everything about my leg hair at a young age, I never thought about removing the hair growing on my vulva. Except, of course, what fell outside my panties, which I was very ashamed of. I don’t know where I bought it, whether there are hairs that have grown in the right place and hair that has grown in the wrong place. The dark triangle covering the hill of Venus was probably part of the visual representation of the female body at that time, and this hair was a pleasant feeling for me – you could play with it, caress and poke around in it, as if you were touching a small furry animal, and the movement of the hair during intercourse it was also good.

With my first boyfriend, it felt good to be accepted ‘skin and hair’, and that included the fact that out of curiosity we decided to look at ourselves naked. The sight of my adult vulva after shaving really surprised me. I remembered big lips of a different shape from when I was a little girl, and I didn’t know what happened to me that it looks different now. I was certain that I had never seen anything like it before, and that it had never been like this before. I didn’t say any of this out loud, but I thought to myself; what’s for sure, I grew that hair back – until then, of course, there was still the ordeal of growing hair, with itching and stinging after shaving.

In my twenties I felt no external pressure to shave my vulva, and it wasn’t until my early thirties that I met the first asshole who refused to be with me until he shaved himself, which was like a game. it could have been if I didn’t feel that I wasn’t good enough without it. I should have gotten off right there, but I didn’t, in fact, I didn’t leave him alone even when he didn’t want to use a condom and we started a long, playful tug-of-war in bed. In the end he won and without a condom in my body. The way I write about this brings up an unexpected anger in me.

Fortunately, the majority of my partners were genuinely enthusiastic about what they found in my panties – sometimes hairy to varying degrees, sometimes bare vulva – until a couple of years later, fate brought me together with a man in his mid-thirties, who practically only saw him naked in porn, of course one by one a woman with a bare vulva and was shocked that my genitals were hairy. I remember being frozen inside – I felt like I wasn’t good enough the way I was, how could sex ever be good?
Even when I’m in the months/years of complete hair removal, I get a lot of resistance when my partner expects me to be completely bare, like a baby bump. Sometimes I feel like I have to provide something, like I have to give to be good enough.

I live one part of my adult life with a hairy vulva and the other with a hairless one. I like to wear my fur when and how it suits me, I change it from time to time. I like to grow it, shape it short, or even wax it completely, all of the accompanying sensations are good. My skin is too sensitive for shaving, so it was a real salvation to find waxing and sugar resin, which is not painful at all and my skin is very smooth afterwards. When I get dressed again after waxing, my skin is very sensitive, almost even the cool touch of the clothes is exciting.

In my twenties, my hair was soft and silky, brown, easy to curl into small strands. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had gray hair mixed in, but it doesn’t seem to be a cosmic problem for my partners at all, nor is it if it’s long, in fact. Sometimes they find it especially exciting that I wear my fan hair naturally, they think it’s so rare. In my forties, I noticed that due to age and waxing, the hair grows back much more slowly, and it is practically impossible for me to grow it back on the upper part of my venus hill, it has almost completely disappeared, even though in the last period I wanted it to be the same again.
In the next few days, I plan to go to my favorite naturist sauna, and I remembered that my vulva is not hairy now, so it will be visible there too. It was an interesting experience to observe for myself that although it feels comfortable to be completely naked, the bareness of this small area now makes me a little shy and somewhat wary.

I have a friendly, flexible relationship with the hair growing on my vulva. If I want, I can make it bigger, if I want, I can cut it short or take it off. I’ve tried what it’s like to conform to others, and I’ve also tried what it’s like to do things the way I feel good. I choose the latter.

Hair naturally grows on our vulva. No one should feel like they have to remove this for someone else’s sake.