One time I rimmed my boyfriend and his butt-shaving abilities are lacking, but it’s ok because it turns out I don’t care as much as I thought I did. When I’m doing ma thang I’m not even thinking about hair, aside from the initial “this feels funny on my tongue”.
For me though, when it comes to body hair and the removal of it, I’m always torn. I compulsively pluck my body hair, especially pubes, and alongside that, I’m extremely prone to ingrowns and I skin-pick. So it’s a vicious cycle of either; get stressed, pluck hair, get ingrowns, pick skin, get ingrowns, pick, ingrowns, pick or shave, ingrowns, pick, infected ingrown, pick skin, scar, ingrown under scar, pick, worsen scar. I try to avoid shaving or plucking my pubic mound because of these cycles, but I already have a lot of scars from it. I like to keep my labia shaved, when I can be bothered doing it, but hairs on my mound to prevent giving myself more scars. Not very sexy, I know.
I love how a little hair looks. My favourite is a couple weeks after I’ve shaved all over and the hair has grown back just enough and it’s all uniform and straight, facing the same way.
When I was a bit younger I used to hate body hair, or at least I pretended to when talking about it with friends, but I was always far too lazy to stick to shaving. As I’ve matured I’ve realized that I don’t give a shit, if someone wants to shave or grow their hair long enough to braid, I’m in no position to judge. Those damn feminists got to me.