women want their bushes back

removal regret, cultural conservatism & de-centring the male gaze

photo of me by alli woods

Just over a week ago, I wrote an article about an article I wrote about my bush. It’s had more engagement than anything I’ve ever written on Substack by thousands of views.

I’m so pleased that we’re thirsty for conversation on the female body. It’s about time we talked about the things that have made us uncomfortable in the past, mostly due the patriarchal beauty standards that are wildly unrealistic, sometimes unsafe and still very much upon us.

My article brought a flurry of women to my inbox with their own bush stories, hungry to share their experiences. I wanted to share some of them (with their permission), because they were incredibly powerful and healing for me — and I think they will be for you, too.

We’re all different. We’re not meant to look the same. I want us to re-learn the rules: the only person who knows how and when your body feels good, is you. Groom it however makes you happy. If you want to worship yourself in the mirror — that’s all that matters.

Society, your (hopefully ex) boyfriend and whoever else pushes back, can simply catch the fuck up.

“No one’s ever seen my bush but me.”

“Do you shave down there?” the girls in my year level asked. “Yeah, of course I do.” A fear response from me. A big fat 100% lie.

That night, I went home and shaved her off. No googling to see how I should do it. That sounds so scary to me now, because I had no idea what I was doing or what I was in for when it grew back. But that question had caught me so off guard, I felt too embarrassed to think about keeping her.

Even though we all grow pubic hair, it felt shameful to keep it. If you didn’t shave it completely off; you were gross. Unhygienic. Unattractive. According to high schoolyard conversations, at least. So, for the remainder of high school I kept shaving her off. My leg and armpit hair too. Experiencing cuts, razor rash and grazes did not deter me. I couldn’t be caught with any body hair where it ‘didn’t belong’.

A year or two after high school, I gained quite a bit of weight and I found it difficult to reach my pussy to shave. ‘Who am I doing this for? And why?’ I asked myself. I couldn’t come up with an answer, so I stopped pressuring myself.

I’ve had a full bush ever since.

I like that she’s there because she’s where she belongs. She’s not in the way, she’s not gross. She’s literally doing her job; protecting my pussy.

It can be really easy to conform to what others think. No one’s ever seen my bush except me. But there was a time where any comment on it would’ve seen me spiral.

I’m in a very secure position with my bush now. She’s staying for good. And if anyone doesn’t like it; I don’t care.”

— Stef

~

“I was brainwashed.”

I’ve been a lingerie model since my early twenties. It was always drummed into me that I needed to come to set without a hair out of place. I remember a horror story about a model who had been pulled off set and given a razor because her pubes were poking out of the underwear. I was mortified at the thought that that could be me.

Before each shoot I’d spend at least an hour in the bathroom with the big light on inspecting my bikini line, just to make sure it wasn’t visible.

But ever since the first sprout of pubic hair appeared on my body, I’ve hated it. I’ve been getting rid of it in various ways since I was fourteen.

Most, if not all of my sexual experiences, were dependant on whether I’d had hair removal. If I hadn’t, I would almost always refuse to engage in anything below the belt. Society and various comments from ex-boyfriends had ingrained in me that having pubic hair was gross, unclean and not in the least bit attractive.

I was brainwashed. So much so, that when a guy I was seeing in my early twenties told me he found shaved genitals “weird”, I was shocked.

I’m with someone now who loves me and my body in all it’s forms. It’s led me to consider having a family, which has meant thinking about my body on a deeper level. I think about what I’d tell my children when they see my body and ask questions. How do I explain that it’s normal to have pubic hair, when I’ve decided not to? And what if they ask why? My reason is that I was brainwashed by a patriarchal society that led me to believe it was disgusting.

Asking these questions has changed my attitude towards my pubes. Choosing to de-centre the opinions of men has been life-changing. I still tend to it before a shoot, but I don’t worry myself sick if I have the odd hair or two when I’m at the beach or with my partner.

I wish I hadn’t removed something so natural from my body. I wish I’d been told to wait longer to do something so permanent.”

— Jess

~

“I feel like a goddess.”

“I’ve always had dark, coarse hair, and I’ve never really liked it.

Even still, I’ve always had a bush — sometimes neatly groomed, sometimes left to do its own thing. I’ve waxed, shaved, and trimmed over the years, but have always preferred it neat. Especially in summer, it can feel uncomfortable and sweaty.

I got my first Brazilian recently and I haven’t looked back. I feel more feminine, confident, and honestly; like a goddess. Shaving all the time was exhausting — I’d be in the shower for what felt like forever, bent over nearly passing out like it was an olympic sport… only to have stubble appear again in no time.

I used to think of pubic hair as something to maintain, but now I see it as a choice. There’s no right or wrong way to have it — it’s just about what makes you feel good.

Now I don’t have to think about it, and I love that. I’m even considering laser because I’m so ready to be done with the hassle.

Finding my first grey hair down there was definitely a moment. Samantha Jones’ voice “no-one wants to fuck grandma’s pussy!” immediately popped into my head. It made me rethink how I felt about my bush.

As a single woman in my early 40’s, who feels like she’s only just stepping into the dating world again, I want to feel as confident as possible — for ME. And was I confident with my greys? I wasn’t so sure.

But the real deciding factor was the constant upkeep. Cameron Diaz said in an interview that pubic hair has a purpose, and she cautioned against laser because it’s permanent — you might regret it later on, or the person who thinks it’s attractive now might not be around forever.

But for me, this isn’t about anyone else. This choice is about my confidence, my comfort, and making life a little easier.”

— Lisa

~

“I was mortified.”

“When I was 17 I got a Brazilian laser and got rid of all my pubic hair. I did it because my boyfriend at the time (in hindsight, a total sleaze) wanted me to. That's what boys 'liked'. It's what porn stars did. Everyone I knew was shaving, waxing or lasering their bush off. So it (wildly) felt like a no-brainer.

I have this memory of going swimming with a boy I liked. I didn’t know we were going to be swimming that day, so I didn't have my swimmers on me. I wore my white underwear instead. At the time I had a full bush that you could see through my underwear when I got wet. The boys made fun of me and I was mortified.

As a woman, growing pubic hair was always seen as something to be ashamed of. Porn had a lot to do with the negative messaging on body image, unrealistic standards on women and sexualising grown women looking like children, when naked.

It’s taken a decade to grow back post-laser, but I love my bush now. I like it trimmed and in a small triangle shape, but I don’t feel the pressure of it needing to look a certain way for someone else. If anyone had the audacity to tell me otherwise, I’d probably tell them to fuck off.

I see pubic hair differently now than how I used to. Through my work as a sexologist, I’ve done lots of deep diving into my own personal values around the unrealistic values put on women. I’ve come to learn that pubic hair is a healthy, normal part of being an adult woman, and it also keeps my vulva and vagina healthy — so I love her!

That being said, I truly believe that it’s up to the woman and her choice on how her genitals look, including what type of pubic hair she has. If it's bare, that’s great! If it's a full bush, that’s great! If it's somewhere in between, that’s great too! As long as we feel good about it and empowered because of it, then it's the right choice.”

— Jamie

~

“It didn’t feel as liberating as I’d imagined.”

“At the start of the ‘noughties’ era, my friends started experimenting with grooming — or totally removing — their bush. So naturally, like most teenage girls vulnerable to the influence of their peers — I did the same.

Later on in early adulthood, I had laser hair removal to try and take care of it more permanently.

Then in my 30’s, I noticed that more women I admired were flaunting their armpit and other pubic hair in an act of feminism.

I decided growing out my armpit bush would be a good social experiment. While most of my peers — including my partner — didn’t seem to care, others were quite alarmed. “Why on earth are you doing that?” people I barely knew would exclaim without encouragement. Something about that reaction made me want to grow it out even more.

Sadly, laser hair removal has left me with quite sparse hairs, and my armpit “bush” was more like a desert with a few tumbleweeds. For that reason, I gave up. It felt like it should be all or nothing, and a few wispy hairs under my arm didn’t feel like anything close to the empowering activism I’d imagined.

Although I don’t regret laser hair removal for the most part, I wish younger me didn’t feel so pressured in the first place. It’s pretty problematic that women are encouraged by the patriarchy to look pre-pubescent.

I’m so grateful to the women that do grow out their pubic hair and own it. It’s these small acts of feminism that pave the way for others.”

— Kellie

~

“They called me a man.”

“In my experience, South Asian (Indian) men refuse to go down on you if you have a bush. In fact, my ex-partner always used to say that he’d start sneezing because of my pubic hair. “Do you ever shave down there?” others would ask, in condescending tones.

In India, it’s a cultural thing that women must be hairless. It’s ingrained in us from a young age that if we’re hairy, it’s icky.

Although hair is a dominant feature for South Asian women it’s often a contentious ground. While you’re a child it’s fine, but as soon as you burst into your teenage years, Indian society expects you to remove all body hair. In our culture, an ideal woman’s body should be hairless.

When I was 15, I wore shorts to school one day and the boys made fun of my leg hair. They called me a man. I was horrified. After school, I went home and used my dad’s razor to shave my legs.

Even now, at 29, I’m okay with my facial hair — I have PCOD and have come to terms with it — but my aunts are always saying to my mum that I should get laser done.

Australian men have been more open to my pubic hair, though. Their openness — and sometimes apathy — has helped me comes to terms with it more.

But to be honest, I still don’t love it.”

— Shristi

~

“It made me feel so inferior.”

“I hate that women are expected to be smooth and hairless. It reeks of purity required of us for the male gaze.

Even still, I’ve always felt self-conscious about keeping my pubic hair. I had no need to get rid of it all, but friends would always tell me about their Brazilians and how “men prefer it”… which honestly, made me feel so inferior. Did this mean that men wouldn’t ‘prefer’ me? Simply because I had pubic hair?

At first I felt some shame, but then realised I had no reason to change something natural about myself. I’ve had issues with in-growns which would have been the only medical reason for removing my bush. But I'm 37 and I've come this far without doing so — I think it's good to really question why we are making changes to our body. And not to rush it.

I never understood why pubic hair was so shameful. TBH, the Sex And The City movie scene with Miranda has a lot to answer for. And media depictions of female beauty standards in general. It’s wild that we just grow up not questioning why we need to be smooth everywhere.

I'll never forget the craziness when Julia Roberts showed her unshaved arm pits. Everyone lost their minds! Over some armpit hair! It's all connected to how we view women, and that needs questioning. We have body hair too.”

— Molly*

~

“She wanted me to be like other girls.”

“I used to date and have sex with men when I identified as bisexual — and back then I fully shaved the bush. I always claimed it was just for me and not for the men I was sleeping with, but the second I stopped fucking men I stopped shaving so often… and now I don't shave at all.

To me now, it feels wrong to not have pubic hair. Like I'm a grown woman, why would I shave my natural body hair off? The only people who have no body hair naturally are children, so to be honest I find it sort of creepy that men want that.

Even my mum wanted me to shave, though. She suspected I was queer and wanted me to be more like other girls.

I grew up Muslim so I had a lot of Muslim friends, and even my hijabi friends shaved. They thought it was odd that I didn’t, and would make it known to me. They’d make jokes about my hairy legs, which I couldn’t hide because we had to wear dresses to school up until year 10.

I didn’t wear the hijab, but I thought that they — of all people — would understand, because they religiously have to cover up their body.

Being Arab, I have a lot of body hair. I’ve always felt it was less obvious on the white girls, who so naturally get that ‘clean girl’ aesthetic you see in films and TV. I think I shaved for them, for my friends, my mum, for boys and just to generally conform. If multiple people are telling you to change something and all representation points to it being the ideal look, it’s hard — as a young person — to resist.

But now, as a lesbian, seeing a woman's pubic hair is really really hot. It’s something I’ve found myself insanely attracted to. So it’s like: why be ashamed of it on myself?”

— Persephone

~

Hey, quick side note. I’d love for you to follow me on Instagram. I share all of my other work on there, including my fortnightly sex column, where I first talked about my bush. Come and connect. My DMs are always open.