What The Locker Room And My Grandmother Taught Me About Body Hair

When was the first time you realized your body was changing in a way that made you feel exposed?

Was it that one long chin hair that showed up out of nowhere? Maybe it was underarm hair you tried to hide while wearing a tank top? For me, it happened in the locker room, but not where you’d expect. It was the hair on my arms.

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I hadn’t even noticed it until a fellow athlete pointed it out. In that moment, my body became something to examine, compare, and question. That single comment sparked an obsession with arm hair and set me on a path that led to a few bad decisions.

Every summer growing up, I spent time at my grandparents’ house in Temple, Texas. In my teenage mind, their house felt huge. I was curious, nosy, and always exploring. One summer day, I wandered into the bathroom and spotted a bottle of Nair sitting on the counter.

I locked the door.

I may or may not have read the directions correctly. What I did remember was the commercial. Smooth arms. Quick results. Problem solved.

I applied the Nair to my right arm. About two minutes later, my arm started burning. I screamed and threw my arm into the sink, trying to rinse it off as fast as possible. It felt like my skin was on fire.

That is also when I realized something important. This was the first time I had ever locked a door in my granny’s house.

She heard the screaming and came knocking, telling me to open the door. Once the pain eased a little and I washed everything off, I tried to unlock it. The door would not budge.

My chest tightened. My arm was still burning, my eyes were watering, and I could hear my granny’s voice on the other side of the door getting louder. I kept twisting the lock, over and over, convinced I was about to be in serious trouble. I was touching grown folks’ products, had locked a door I was never supposed to lock, and now I was stuck. The fear hit all at once. Not just fear of the pain, but fear of being seen, caught, and embarrassed.

I did not know it then, but that moment planted the idea that my body needed fixing long before it ever needed understanding.

After my granny calmed down, she called my Uncle Keith to come unlock the door.

When it was time to explain myself, my uncle simply said, “Don’t lock the door no more.” No judgment. No questions.

My granny, however, gave me a lecture I will never forget.

She explained that growing hair is natural. That every woman grows hair. Some of us just grow more than others. She told me this was very common in our family. Basically, the family curse.

So yes, I am a little hairy. Like most women. And yes, I have beauty routines to manage it. (That was not my last encounter with Nair either.) But if I had listened to my mother and my granny back then, I probably would not be dealing with some of the hair issues I have now.

The point is this. Do not let anyone make you feel self conscious about something almost all of us deal with. Trying to erase parts of yourself too early can cause problems later. 

Love yourself. Appreciate yourself. And never let anyone make you feel ashamed of your body.