It isn’t unusual for me to be bombarded with sexist media and messages in my life. But when I’m away at college, I sometimes forget the lack of education amongst the general population. Over the summer, a coworker informed me that it was “unnatural” that I didn’t have a boyfriend, and a friend said that women shouldn’t wear makeup because he’d “figure out what they look like eventually.” I decided I needed to enact a rebellious phase in my life in order to stay sane.

So, I decided right then and there that I was going to stop shaving my legs and armpits in protest. In truth, I wasn’t afraid of it at all. But, I knew this was an important step in my life because a few years ago, I probably would’ve been terrified. I had been conditioned my entire life to think that women needed to be hairless and soft like some type of small child. I remember family members pointing out “hippie” women with long dark hair running down their legs. I was programmed to think that this was weird, that it was disgusting.

The first few days were pretty normal. I usually am quite lazy when it comes to shaving, so the prickly feeling on my legs was not anything out of the ordinary.

You know what the funniest part was? No one noticed. Absolutely no one. I actually started to get a little angry. I looked at men’s legs thinking, “Mine isn’t even close to being that long. I have to keep going.” I guess I thought I’d be able to braid my armpit hair or something, but it was a pretty slow going process.

I resorted to actually telling someone about my secret agenda. She wasn’t even surprised saying that she too didn’t shave. The girl in question had light blonde baby hairs. I gave up on trying to tell anyone else.

Then, I caught a female coworker wearing pants at work one day in July. I went up to her and told her that the dress code was really casual, and that she could wear shorts if she wanted to. “Oh, yeah!” she replied. “I know its super-hot out, but I haven’t shaved my legs!” That broke my heart.

I decided I needed to set an end point for this experiment in order to compare my findings. I would shave the night before the Ben Fold’s concert I was going to. That meant I had a whole week left of looking like Hagrid. I actually surprised myself a little. With a week left, I felt strange. Sort of like when you have an itch that you can’t scratch. I didn’t mind the fuzzy feeling when I slid my hands over my shins, but I also couldn’t help feeling a little dirty. But that was ridiculous, I told myself. I could handle another week of this.

One night, I got invited to hang out with a few friends. “This is it” I thought “Someone is bound to notice.” Even worse, my friends in question were straight teenage boys who I thought would surely judge me. But no one did. In fact, my friend excitedly showed me his poetry book titled “Milk and Honey” by Rupi Kaur. After flipping through the pages, 2 poems stood out to me.

“removing all the hair
Off your body is okay
If that’s what you want to do
Just as much as keeping all the hair
On your body is okay
If that’s what you want to do”
-you only belong to yourself

“the next time he
Points out the
Hair on your legs is
Growing back remind
That boy that your body
Is not his home
He is a guest
Warn him to
Never outstep
His welcome
Again.”

It was a sign from the universe that my mission was going to be fruitful. I’m not saying I believe in fate or anything, but that black and white book of poems was just what I needed to validate my experiment, and really support my whole existence and the choices I’ve made about my own body.

So in conclusion― no one cared! My mom did ask if I “was from Wellfleet” (hippie town USA), but I let that blow slide.

I think we all tend to display a little imaginary audience from time to time. But I am here to break the news to you: no one is staring at your legs. That’s not to say you don’t have beautifully toned calf muscles, but the truth is people have better things to do than observe the amount of hair on your body.

If someone does happen to take a liking to you and expresses that somehow by gazing at your shins romantically, so be it. If they decide they dislike you for the natural hair on your skin, then they are probably pretty shallow. I for one think you can do much better.

I am so thankful that I created this little experiment over the summer. I pushed myself out of my comfort zone on so many occasions. Some parts were definitely hard, like when I sat at the beach or when I was afraid my coworkers would make comments. But, overall it was breezy! I was the only one in charge of my choices.

Overall, I decided I like shaving because it personally makes my skin feel clean and fresh. And I’m so happy I figured it out this way. Now I know that I am shaving for myself, and only myself. I highly recommend that you try this if you are someone who shaves. And if you are someone who doesn’t shave, try shaving for a week. It’s always good to try new things and push ourselves to do what WE want to do, not what we’re told to do.