Being laughed at for not shaving my armpits? Being told that I'm sexually frustrated? It's just another day at dance class...
I've always loved social dancing. I was Ceroc addict before we moved to France. So when we moved, I tried to find something similar. But I had to admit defeat very quickly as they don't do Ceroc here at all. A friend suggested trying Salsa, which is huge around here. But I hesitated, because I thought, shit, do I really want to dance with machos?
So I didn't dance, but after two years of abstinence, I just HAD to get back into dancing because it's my absolute favourite sports and without it, my soul just withers away and dies in horrible misery. My husband says dancing isn't even a sports but whatever. So I went to my first Salsa class.
Three classes in, there's this new guy, smug grin plastered onto his face, and the FIRST thing he says to me, I kid you not, is
-----dude, there's a lot of tension in your head and "down below".
Meaning my groin. Sweet! Thanks for that! So I think too much and I shag too little? That's very perceptive of you but how about if I told you to just go FUCK yourself?
I mean, what if I went around telling my dance partners that they show signs of sexual frustration? Would they recoil in horror? They would!
And so, my friends, did I.
Anyway, the story doesn't end here. Next thing I know, there's these girls whispering things to each other behind their hands and they start giggling while shooting glances at me. So somebody finally noticed my armpit hair, I think to myself. It's about time: it's sooo soft and fluffly!!!
Then that reminded me of something else, attention: this is a flashback. If this were on TV, the screen would go black and white, and the sound would be all off and shit. So anyway, I'm on this bus, I'm 16 years old, it's the middle of the summer, everyone's hot, and there is this gorgeous girl from my school opposite me, holding on to one of those handles that dangle down from the ceiling on German buses. Exposing her beautiful black armpit hair. And I think to myself, wtf, she doesn't shave? And why do I find this attractive?
Shaving is uncommon in many other cultures, but in mine, randomly enough, it's practically obligatory. So that scene on the bus has stayed with me and it comforts me whenever I have doubts about my own armpit hair, and I catch people looking at me thinking "what the fuck is this"? Making me feel ashamed of my body. I mean how can some people think it's ok to make other people feel ashamed of their bodies? So then I just think of that girl on the bus, and I feel quite happy to stay the way I am. To just enjoy my soft fluffly armpit hair, rather than scratching at itchy stubble and that ugly, UGLY feeling of sweat collecting on shaved skin, instead of melting into my fluffy! Yes! I've said it three times! Four: FLUFFY underarm hair!!!!!
Anyway, that's it from me for today, folks. Stay tuned for more episodes from Season 2 of "Gwen's blog about orgasms and stuff like that". It's much more personal, it's much more regular, and it's going to be good:) Coming up next week: "Why we're dressing our daughter like boy".