Disclaimer: I’m about to reveal some pretty intimate (and hilarious) facts about my down under.
Before I decided to get rid of the bush, you could see it from outside. You could see the cushion bump when I was wearing leggings or bikinis… or at least I though you could . That was enough to hate it.

When your pubic hair is so stubborn it feels like elephant hair. The root goes down at least 5mm into the skin. If you try to tame the mane, let me tell you it pulls and it hurts like hell. The bush also makes you itchy, it makes you sweat, it serves no critical purpose and it’s not a good welcome present for whoever you invite for an oral exploration.

Once I moved to the tropics, the cushion had the days counted. Singapore’s fancy waxing joint Strip got me hooked with a package. It was too hipster and appealing to resist. First it was Brazilian Wax but after a while… IPL here we go! I successfully got rid of the cushion for life, but did I stop a single moment to think about the possible consequences? NO. Will I be cold in winter? What will I tell my future teenage daughter when she grows a virgin forest and I look like a sandy beach? Will full bushes be the sexiest thing on earth in 2030 and will look like a 12 year old? Was Samantha from SatC right?

Wait a moment! Stop right there. I have no regrets. I chopped the jungle because it was just too bloody uncomfortable. I don’t miss it. We could say it was for medical reasons. As in ‘I was on the verge of causing a psychotic episode and it had to go away’ kind of medical reasons.

Nevertheless the IPL didn’t fully work. It didn’t give me the dramatic irreversible baldness that it promised. The darkest corners of down under have too much pigment for it to work (apparently) and the roots are so deep that they can’t even see the light. Sigh… So much for my package.

But I was hooked. The bits that survived needed to be waxed, regularly. No pain no gain. Ever since I experienced what it’s like to have the softest and smoothest bit of skin between my chubby, prone to sweat, inner thighs, there was no going back.

Last month. after years practicing the Brazilian rites, the imaginable happened. I finally dawned to me. I stopped and thought: What the hell am I doing here?! All of those transcendental questions about my decision came up. It was thanks to my therapist. What is this woman doing with my delicates?!

She’s moving one leg here one fold there! Jesus Christ the Lord!  I was in shock. Maybe I had a bad day, maybe it was just her.  The ruthlessness  of my Chinese therapist woke me up. She operated with the precision and determination of a person that plucks chickens in a farm for a living. Maybe that’s what she did before ending up here. Maybe that’s why she got the job, all the way from rural China. Never mind, I was there waking up from a coma of self-consciousness feeling completely invaded and witnessing how she raided my tomb.

It had become so normal for me to have a complete stranger (woman) digging my punani that I was amazed with myself. I never had any shame of that kind, and now all I wanted is for Miss China Poultry 2015 to finish and leave me alone, to lick my mental wounds.

Nature is wise and gave us eyebrows so that blood from wounds in the head and forehead won’t get into the eyes. It gave us armpit hair to help sweat evaporate and refresh our pits, so I guess public hair had a similar purpose, to serve as some sort of protection, but it never worked for me. I had the same amount of urine infections pre and pro baldness. I’m not entirely sure we can trust mother nature anymore. Specially when the mystery of men’s nipples is still unresolved.

When my public hair first made an appearance in my life it was very uncomfortable and disturbing. We didn’t click from the start. I used to trim it. I even wanted to to relax it like black women do to control the frizz of their hair. It worked, but didn’t last.

Now the hair is growing back. It’s decision time. If I let it be, it will pull, itch and make me sweat again, but I’m not ready for another wax anytime soon, or to waste another IPL package.  I want to say bye bye to Brazilian waxing, I’m completely traumatized. Au naturel is supposed to be on, right? It’s a bit difficult for a woman that grew up in the 90s.

I wonder what would ‘Au Naturel’ queen Solange Knowls do… Probably lots of conditioner.