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There’s nothing worse than seeing someone obsess over their insecurities, as I too have been in that position. A girl who I called a “friend” commented on my arms one day in 5th grade, stating how I should wear long sleeve shirts more often, and it bothered me. I knew what she said was rude, and that I am the own governor of my own body, meaning I choose what I’d like to wear, but the words buried themselves in my skin like daggers. I listened, choosing to wear sweaters most of the time but I’d always give her the odd glance, hoping she’d recognize that I knew what she had said and that I was offended, hoping deep down that she’d feel bad for what she said, but that never happened. Nevertheless, I’ll admit my self-esteem got better eventually, but that journey in itself was no walk in the park.
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In recent years, young girls have had enough grief over body hair, especially after the Nash Grier incident where he claimed that having hairy arms is a turn off. This action alone was enough to seriously damage the self-esteem of thousands of young girls. It’s degrading to hear that you’re not attractive for having hairy arms, and I didn’t let that bother me, but I can’t say that thousands of girls across the world did the same thing.
Junior High was when I really discovered myself and recognized my worth. So many people will say that Junior High was an awful time in their life that they’d never relive in a million years, but those were the years where I was really allowed to heal some of the wounds I’d earned during elementary. I’d begun to really invest myself in the whole feminist movement, and it felt good to learn that there were people around the world who live, breathed and slept body positivity. All I’d known to that point was primarily negativity, and it sucked.
This time in my life was when I started to really get into Marina & the Diamonds. Something that sticks with me to this day is her May 2013 tweet (Beware! She uses some colorful language!). Whenever my self-esteem falters, I think about those words and adopt a careless attitude regarding the opinions of others, because there’s no other opinion that matters except mine when it comes to my body. I think that factor was key to embracing all the insecurities I loved to hate, and I recommend to anyone struggling with being happy with your body, tell yourself this in the mirror: I am strong. I am beautiful. I am enough.
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The road to body positivity does not end with these three sentences, but it’s definitely a start. I’ve had quite a while to reflect on the influence of others, and the extent of their influence starts with you. You get to choose what you agree with or disagree with. You can choose which individuals you’d like to surround yourself with. You can choose whether or not to shave your body hair or not. And that’s it: It’s your choice. I don’t think it really fazed me that I had the ability to choose until Junior High. The pressure to be a hairless naked mole rat imposed on me by my peers was overwhelming and I felt I needed to fit the mold, but now the truth is clear to me. My body = my choice. If I wanna shave my legs, then heck yeah I can do it. If I wanna shave my arms, then power to me. If I wanna dye my body hair, than that’s cool. Do I have to do this? Not at all.
I’m sick of body hair being a synonym for gross, because that’s not true at all. In a perfect world, people everywhere would be able to live freely with or without body hair and not have to suffer ridicule for their choices, but sadly we’re not there yet. Until then, I won’t stop to encourage my friends to embrace their choices because there is nobody who should ever make you feel less than attractive for sporting your body hair proudly. Your body is your canvas and you’re entitled to expressing yourself however you want, so next time someone doesn’t approve of your body hair, just tell them “life ain’t a Nair commercial”.
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