Shaving for the first time at fifteen years old was scary.
No one talked about it.
I mean you get the odd sex education class taught at school which is always a little awkward and while puberty is explained no one really talks about this phenomenon that women and some men put themselves through on a regular basis.
Having grown up in a typical Nigerian household, we never discussed sex, puberty or anything remotely intimate. Sure we spoke about periods but that’s mostly because as a teenager I suffered severely with bad period pains but everything else was off the table.
It is no surprise therefore when it came time to shave my legs I didn’t even know where to start. There was no such thing as google back then and we were one of those families that didn’t have the internet at home so access to information was limited to my friendship circle.
My friends were all either blessed with really smooth and hairless skin or they had the low down on how to get smooth hairless skin. Lucky cows.
Me on the other hand, I had hair everywhere, which society had quickly taught me was unattractive, so it had to be gone.
I remember going into Superdrug’s with my friends, using my pocket money to buy razors; the disposable ones, as they happened to be the cheapest. I felt like such a grown woman after purchasing these and had a spring in my step as I went home to test out my new product. I had seen my dad shave his moustache plenty of times, so the whole concept seemed simple to grasp.
What I didn’t bank on happening, however, was my mum catching me in the act. I had already done my legs successfully and was starting on my armpits. I remember her face to this day. She was shocked; not at me shaving, but more so because I was doing it ‘wrong’. So she showed me the right way and introduced me to the infamous shaving gel.
Fast forward to today and my reason for sharing this.
As women we have so much to do in life; have a career, get married, give birth, raise boys to become men, and to top it off we ‘have’ to be clean shaven too. Sometimes it all gets a bit too much and at times I seriously can’t be bothered. I can’t be the only one who feels like this?
For example, the other day I was getting bikini ready for my holiday and the thought of having to shave (as I didn’t manage to book myself my usual wax appointment in time) irritated me and I was complaining to my husband about it. But I felt like I had no other choice. I wouldn’t dare walk on the sandy beaches of Cuba with my prickly pins or my amazon forest of a vajayjay. It is not the norm, even though I wish it didn’t matter.
Totally random but would love to hear your shaving experiences; all sexes welcome. This is not a place for judgment so do feel free to share ❤
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