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How Does Your Garden Grow?

August 7, 2012 by Heather Cole

My poor mama has been through a lot with me these past couple years. I moved further away from her loving arms, my marriage went south into hell followed by a nightmarish custody battle. Then I came out about being kinky and having not only a Master at that time but a second boyfriend. Phew! So the fact that my ladygarden is bare…well, she shouldn’t bat an eyelash. Right?

During a recent visit, she was in the master bathroom helping my daughter brush her teeth. We were all getting ready for bed, and I wanted a quick shower. I walked from my bedroom past her at the sink and then into the shower. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her do a double-take at my ponynose, but she would have preferred to kick Jesus in the shins than question my shaving practices. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why it was such a shock to her. She was a young woman during the sixties, those glorious days of free love and copious body hair. My dear mama believes in bush.

Scrolling through my tumblr, almost all the women are shaved or waxed. It’s the popular trend these days, and I must confess, I’m hooked on that smooth, soft-as-a-pony-nose feeling. Apparently this doesn’t apply to red-haired women, because they’re supposed to retain some pubic hair as evidence that they’re natural gingers. You’d think it was like finding a unicorn or something. Look! It’s a natural ginger! Grab her quick so we can make wishes!

It’s almost time for me to happily submit to my aesthetician for my monthly brazilian. I became a disciple of the wax after discovering that I had hair growing in my ass crack. I mean, how cruel is it that we grow hair there where we can’t see it unless we randomly squat over a mirror? I uncovered this devastating truth a month before I moved out of our married home, and I was in the shower masturbating. My ex-husband didn’t approve of masturbation or any activity within the vicinity of the ass. (I think he secretly thought there was a sphincter monster or something.) The shower was my one escape where I could explore and enjoy my body, but when my hands wandered from my vagina to my ass…HOLD THE PHONE, PEOPLE. It was like discovering the Black Forest was actually growing in my ass crack.

What did I do? I marched my hairy monster ass into the grocery store and bought hair remover. The extra sensitive kind that promised to give me the hairless, toned ass of a model. According to the commercials, all I had to do was smooth it on my skin and the hair would just wash away. I locked myself in the bathroom and called Nikki for a pep talk. Then I applied the thick, foul-smelling stuff around my ladygarden. I called Nikki minutes later and the conversation went something like this:

Me: “I need bandaids for my vagina!”
Nikki: “What?!”
Me: “I’m bleeding! I need a vagina first aid kit!”
Nikki: “What happened?”
Me: “I spread it on and left it there like the directions said. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD IT’S LIKE A BRUSHFIRE DOWN BELOW!”
Nikki: “Did you wash it off?”
Me: “Yes, but it won’t stop burning! My hooha looks like a lobster bake gone horribly wrong!”

I don’t remember the rest of our phone call because Nikki was laughing too hard to be coherent. (She just emailed me that she’s still laughing.)

Thankfully there are coping mechanisms for people like me. A recommendation from Liri sent me to a six foot, tattooed woman at a spa. Ms. AJ is wonderful, and I have no problems with modesty as I contort my body so that she can rip all the hair out of my crevasses. I make sure not to go the week before my period, because of the heightened tenderness in that area. Also, caffeine beforehand is a no no. I swallow a couple ibuprofen and go for the gusto. I have some swelling and redness for 24-hours afterwards, but the results are worth it.

I’m not alone in my love of the brazilian. Dudes are doing it now too. It’s called a manzilian, to be exact. Yes, men can go have hot wax placed on their tenderest of bits and have their pubes pulled for that professional stripper feeling.

Having said all that, I have nothing against people like my mama who prefer an au natural landscaping scheme in their gardens. When I polled my male friends as to their preferences, every single one replied that when they desired a partner, they could care less about the texture down there. It’s all part of the glorious scenery. It came as no surprise that not one person said that they wanted to see chemical burns. Still, I really think vagina bandaids need to be a thing.

Really.


6 Comments »

  1. Scot Thomas says:

    Why yes, yes we do, although there is a price to pay as I found out: http://thedomnextdoor.wordpress.com/2012/06/30/waxing-philosophic/

  2. Cara Dunn says:

    When you go down on a woman to come up realising you’ve flossed as well, you realise your true love for a Hollywood. God bless beauticians for their fabulous work.

  3. […] experiences and connecting with readers despite any differences of kink, relationship style or personal grooming disasters. Our goal was to connect with others in our kink community, the online and sex blogging communities […]

  4. […] I met sir, I was more devoted to visiting my aesthetician than I was the dentist. My ponynose was near and dear to my vagina (obviously) and my heart. I loved being bare down there. When I […]

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