Growing up, I had the hairiest arms and I HATED THEM.
I’m not talking a bit of brown arm hair, I’m talking a Chewbacca-style blanket of black hair that covered my entire forearm and made me feel like I was wearing a jumper in summer.
Okay maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but that’s how it manifested in my mind and how my self-esteem read it. It really got me down. (And before you recommend laser hair removal, next time you see me remind me to show you the almighty scar I have from a laser test-patch from 2004 when I attempted to get all the hair zapped off in my early 20s.)
A few dumb boys made comments in my teens and 20s and dumb boys are usually the ones you have crushes on at those ages, so it hurt. I’d tried waxing but wound up with lumps and bumps - it just wasn't for me.
Watch: The horoscopes and self care. Post continues below.
Then one day I thought to myself, “I shave my legs. I shave under my arms. Why don't I just shave my forearms?!” And I did. And I have every few days ever since. And have been much happier as a result.
Until people quiz me on it, which is more often than you’d think. If someone is a hugger or toucher they often then remark, “Your arms are so soft. Oh! You don't have any hair there?” to which I reply “yeah, I shave them.”