Why women don't just go with the grow

I am a woman; I have body hair. And, apparently, I am not alone.

In the run-up to the Oscars, Academy Award-winning actress Mo'Nique let people in on the fact that she does not shave her legs.

The comedian and late-night talk show host told Barbara Walters, "I tried shaving one time. It was so uncomfortable and so painful, and when it grew back, it grew back even thicker, and more of it. I said never again would I do that to myself."

Most of the coverage of Mo'Nique's leg-hair decision did not discuss the significance of her statement in a broader context.

What is the broader context? Well, despite the fact that all human beings get body hair when they become adults, from about puberty, girls are faced with cues that body hair is something to be ashamed of, embarrassed by and ultimately removed.

If girls decide to remove their body hair, then that's their choice. But they might not realize that in order to remain hair-free they will have to remove that hair every day for the rest of their lives (give or take a day or two) or have it permanently removed at some point.

By the time those girls are women, hair removal is just an accepted part of their grooming routine.

Now is probably a good time for me to mention that hair removal is a $10 billion industry, and I hear that's a conservative estimate.

I know you're saying, "Men remove hair as well. Men and women are both expected to have regular haircuts, trim their nose hairs and remove hair in their ears and on their backs if they want to be socially acceptable. And many men are expected to remove beards and mustaches for work."

And you're right.

But check out these ads (here, here, here and here) targeting women for temporary hair removal methods.

You see my point? In order to be feminine -- beautiful even -- a woman can't just go with the grow.

So that means a woman who doesn't want to be noticed for her body hair has to consider the following:

1) Her eyebrows must have a certain shape or arch.
2) She can never have hair above or below her lips or on her chin.
3) Sideburns can't be too thick.
4) Same goes for the hair on the cheeks of her face.
5) No underarm hair.
6) No chest hair.
7) No belly hair.
8) No visible hair "down there" (not my phrase of choice) when sporting a bathing suit.
9) No thick or course hair on the forearms.
10) No leg hair.
11) No hair near her knuckles and no hair anywhere on her feet, if she's really diligent.

And the options for what to do with body hair (because a feminine, beautiful woman must be silky smooth at all times) include:

1) Slowing growth (you need a prescription).
2) Shaving (sigh).
3) Plucking (mini-ouch).
4) Dissolving (I-think-I-left-it-on-too-long-ouch).
5) Waxing (honey-coated-ouch).
6) Zapping with a laser (super-ouch).
7) Destroying the root (I-need-to-slap-somebody-ouch).

NOTE: That list was not exhaustive because it didn't include arguably ouch-worthy methods like threading and sugaring. Don't ask.

Doesn't this all sound ridiculous now that we've actually thought about it?

It's about time we blame somebody for this. Who do you want to blame? The fashion industry? The media? Advertisers? Razor manufacturers? Men? Women?

Who knows?

But let me ask you something, ladies. Would you be willing to take a page from Mo'Nique's book and cut yourselves some slack?

Because what Mo'Nique might be saying is that hair removal is ultimately a choice. A choice we make every day. And if we give up the goal of trying to be "feminine" or society's latest version of "beautiful," then we can choose to be ourselves, with hair on our legs and all.

What do you think? Would you be willing to let it all grow out?

Photo courtesy: Naotakem, Flickr Creative Commons.

Girl talk: When should we sever financial ties with family?

I was chatting with a friend the other day who was upset with her husband for suggesting that his brother come to stay with them for a while. It wasn’t a visit.

Her brother-in-law found it difficult to keep a steady job, often moved from home-to-home within the family and was released from his most recent job due to a ‘bad attitude’ (whatever that means).

Then she added that her husband has always put money aside from the household income to give to his brother (and other family members), and she has always disliked that.

So my friend – fed up with this ongoing helping hand that her husband has given to his family during the six years that they’ve been married - gave her husband an ultimatum. She told him that she was filing for divorce if he allowed his brother to move in with them.

Whoa!

Is she wrong for this ultimatum or is her husband wrong to ever let it get to this point? How much financial help should we offer family members outside of our primary home?

Long shot to block Sotomayor

Critics have raised questions about President Obama’s Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor stemming from her (unscripted yet videotaped) statement that “Court of Appeals is where policy is made” and a 2001 speech in which she stated “I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life.”

Even with those and other critiques, blocking her confirmation will be a long shot.

Anyway, we found this biographical sketch of Judge Sotomayor produced by the Law School Admission Council. Check it out.

Mama gets no paid leave

The Economic Policy Institute says that compared to countries with similar per capita income, the United States provides the fewest mandated maternity leave benefits in both length of leave and amount of paid time off.

What is wrong with us?

Anyway, have a Happy Mother’s Day.

Only one day?

Wow. A whole day for myself. After enduring hours of labor to give birth to three kids, I get a whole day. Let's see, what can I do in one whole day?

Maybe I can make up for the many nights I lost sleep from a sick or feverish child. Maybe I can find a quiet room and reflect on the many days that I just wanted to be left alone only to have the word 'MOMMY!' screamed at me repeatedly. Maybe I can go out to dinner and enjoy myself instead of cooking a big meal and hearing my favorite words - "I don't want this!"

Oh, don't get me wrong. Motherhood is a wonderful experience. A child's first words, first steps, birthdays, graduations. Just seeing your child's beautiful smile can brighten your whole day!

I understand now what my own mother felt. I too have shared in the joys and pains of motherhood. I will enjoy this day and be thankful that God has blessed me with children of my own. I wouldn't have it any other way. But I will also take full advantage of this day, because I know the next day is certainly not Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day! Stay sane.

Another childless Mother's Day

When I woke up this morning, my eggs were angry with me. They wanted to know why I was about to celebrate yet another Mother’s Day without a child of my own.

“Tamika. Tamika. Tamika,” my eggs lectured. “We are not getting any younger. What are you waiting for? If you’re going to hold out much longer, then you might as well just freeze us now!”

I’ve been married nearly 8 years. So my eggs do not care that I am growing in my career and am waiting for the perfect house in the perfect school district. And my eggs have no clue that I am terrified of being torn asunder (ring of fire, anyone?).

My eggs’ best friend, my ob-gyn, has added his two cents to my ongoing childlessness during every annual visit since I was 27.

“Do you realize that your fertility is now on the decline,” he asked. “You don’t want to wait too long. You might want to start thinking about when you want to have that baby.”

I might want to START thinking about it? That’s ALL I think about! And that’s all it seems anyone asks me about.

“So, when are you having kids?”

“When are you having a baby?”

“When are you starting a family?”

“So, when will we hear the pitter-patter of little feet?”

“Any plans to build a nursery in that other bedroom?”

And my all-time favorite: “What are you waiting for?”

I don’t know what I’m waiting for actually. Nothing will ever be perfect. Not the career. Not the house. Not the marriage. Not the school district.

Maybe I’m just waiting until I’m okay with not being in control of my life and my body (not that I ever have been in control, but I like to pretend).

Maybe I’m waiting until the thought of surrendering my body to childbirth and surrendering (some parts of) my future to motherhood doesn’t make me hyperventilate.

Maybe I’m waiting for my eggs and my ob-gyn to shut up.

On being female: Gender etiquette

“I think your husband is gorgeous!” a friend exclaimed on a road trip we took together this past weekend.

The two of us had driven five hours from Chicago to Ann Arbor, MI, home of my alma mater. I showed her the campus, took her by my old dorm, and pointed out all the shopping hotspots. We took photos of all the newly-planted tulips and gave hearty congratulations to the graduating seniors. Exhausted from all that activity under the May sun, we settled in at Good Time Charley’s for chilled wine and appetizers.

And then it happened. An old flame of mine, who now teaches in Ann Arbor, walked into the restaurant with his mother and siblings. He came over and greeted my friend and I while he and his family waited to be seated. When finally he’d excused himself and was out of earshot, I excitedly asked my girlfriend, “Isn’t he absolutely gorgeous??”

But she was less than enthusiastic, “Uum…I guess he’s OK.”

OK? “Just OK?” I asked in disbelief. “When we were in college he was the hottest guy on campus!”

“He’s not ugly,” she assured me, sipping her Reisling, “I’m just…not usually attracted to that type.”

“Then what’s your type,” I asked, furrowing my brows, confused that anyone could think Brandon wasn’t hot. “That guy over there in the blue? How about the one wearing the khakis, he’s cute right?”

“I tend to like tall, slim guys with lighter complexions. Sort of like Mark, I guess. I think he's gorgeous, way better looking than the teacher-guy.”

Hmmm. Did Bridgette cross the line of gender etiquette by telling me my husband was gorgeous? Furthermore, what should I make of her telling me that my husband was just her type? To be fair, I have to say this about Bridgette. Although she’s hung out with Mark and I several times, she’s never once been flirtatious with him. Never makes cute little pouty faces as she’s sliding on her lip gloss, never bends over too low at the bowling alley accidentally flashing her thong. She doesn’t linger too long at our vacation photos of Mark, sans shirt, at the beach. So why did I feel like a line had been crossed when she said he was gorgeous?

I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now, and doing so has caused me to question my own behavior. I mean, was I wrong to say the teacher-guy was gorgeous, and reminisce on our time together? Was I out of line for asking Bridgette her opinion then getting upset when she gave it to me? And how about Matthew McConaghey? Am I wrong when I jokingly say, “Now, he can get it,” to Bridgette when we’re watching E!? Should I stop salivating over photos of Barack out of respect to Michelle?

What can a woman do or say to her best friend’s guy without crossing the line of gender etiquette? Compliment his new shoes? Ask what cologne he’s wearing? Send him a friend request on Facebook? What?

Did they go easy on him?

Or did President Obama really win a game of P-I-G against the UConn women's basketball team?

On being female: The things we carry

A few weeks ago at my neighborhood beer and wine store, I bumped into a former neighbor. Her name is Ann and her daughter, Tasha, was my playmate for several years before they moved away. It had been about fifteen years since I’d seen either of them, but there Ann was, chatting with the clerk about how she hoped this lottery ticket would be the winning one. As she turned to leave, her eyes caught mine, and we recognized each other at that moment.

The story she told me about her life and Tasha’s was sobering, if not sickening. My former playmate had gotten mixed up with cocaine and was now a junkie, a thief, an ex-convict. She’d also given birth to six children, all of which Ann now had custody. Remembering that Ann made meager wages as a bus driver, I asked how she could afford so many kids. “It’s by the grace of God,” she said, hunching her shoulders and lowering her eyes.

Is it? I thought to myself.

A few years before, I’d listened to a sermon by a female pastor entitled “False Burdens.” Her argument was this: The number one way the devil kills women is by guilt-tripping them into carrying false burdens. Wily ole Lucifer will show a woman someone in need, knowing full well she’ll feel compassion and go out of her way to help. Before long, helping would require so much of the woman’s energy, resources, and time that her husband, herself, and her prayer life would all fall by the way side. Exhausted and heavy-laden with stresses, she’s a weak and easy target for Lucifer.

Even if you’re not a religious person, it’s hard to argue with the pastor’s point, that we, as women, have a tendency to carry burdens that are not our own.

I’m thinking of another friend, Tamara, as I write this. Tamara owns two houses, one of which she rents out to her often-months-late-with-the-rent mother. And even though this situation is a huge financial and emotional burden for my friend, she feels it would be wrong to evict her own mother.

Emily is another acquaintance of mine with a similar situation. Her mother doesn’t have a driver’s license or own a car. So, after working all day as an elementary school teacher, Emily rushes home not to take a long soak in the tub, but to drive her mother to the bank, the post office, the fruit market.

I’m not suggesting that daughters shouldn’t ever help their mothers, or that grandparents shouldn’t love their grandchildren. I am simply asking these questions: When and where should women draw the line when taking on burdens that do not belong to us? At what point does being nice become a detriment to our health? How can we expect to live joyous lives when we are perpetually doing things we don’t want to do? Is it possible that taking on more than we can bear is not selflessness, but foolishness? Is it possible that carrying too many burdens is not doing the work of God, but the work of the devil?

I remember the way Ann looked a few weeks ago, like she was on drugs herself. Feet like the Mojave. Dingy sweatpants. Prunes beneath her eyes. I wondered how long she could care for those kids before succumbing to a breakdown and needing a caretaker herself.

Remembering Bea Arthur

Emmy and Tony Award-winning actress Bea Arthur of "Maude" and "The Golden Girls" fame died Saturday at 86. Here is a funny clip in honor of the sharp-tongued actress.

On parenting a bullied child

A recent ESPN article addresses teen bullying and quotes a statistic from the National Youth Violence Prevention Center that “nearly one in three youths nationwide said they were bullied, have been bullies or both.”

That’s a sobering fact and something that I’m well aware of as the mother of a 14-year-old.

A few days ago when I picked up my daughter from school she was crying. She told me that a few of the girls at school were teasing her and that one girl tried to stick a dirty candy wrapper in her mouth.

My daughter said that she held her hands to her mouth and tried to back away. She said that another girl then walked behind her and smacked her on the side of her face.

But when I asked her for information about the girls who were bullying her, she told me through tears that she wanted to handle it on her own.

I spoke to the principal and vice principal at my daughter’s school. All of the girls, including my daughter, sat with a school counselor to discuss the incident.

But the entire episode concerns me, especially in light of recent childhood suicides linked to bullying (see stories here and here).

It is a balancing act, because my daughter’s encounter went from bullying and teasing to physical violence and intimidation very quickly.

And how do I help her make sense of what has happened? What am I to do with my anger? What am I to do with my need to protect my child?

This video is appalling!

Miss California tells Miss USA judge Perez Hilton that she thinks marriage should be between a man and a woman. I am appalled!

No, not at her answer. I expected as much from a beauty contestant. I'm appalled because it's 2009 and there is still a beauty pageant on television.

I can't make this stuff up!

Some woman claims she developed a surgery-free facelift. It's been featured in Elle, Marie Claire and Vogue, so it must be for women.

It's called Facercise (like I said, I can't make this stuff up), a twice-daily face exercise program that isolates face muscles and claims to firm them up.

There's a funny 1995 article from The New York Times about the program (I say it's funny because the writer accepts the notion that her aging face is a problem - more on that below).

Anyway, according to the Facercise web site, "results" can be seen "in just a few days." I should let you know that I was laughing while I typed that.

These are the results Facercisers (I think I just coined the term) can expect:

-Eyebrows are raised or lifted

-Eye sockets are enlarged, resulting in the eyes appearing more open and
vibrant

-Diminished puffiness under the eyes

-A shorter or narrower nose. The nose grows with age, creating an aged appearance

-Fuller lips and turned up, younger looking mouth corners

-Toned and defined chin, neck and jaw line

-Complexions change color and become more vibrant and youthful

So after reading the list I decided I wasn't going to exhaust myself by going over every point because the list is ridiculous enough on its own. But here's what jumped out at me.

Who would want to enlarge their eye sockets? Right. Let's move on.

"The nose grows with age, creating an aged appearance." OMG! There are so many things wrong with that statement that I think a college course can be built around it.

Bottom line is that this marketing campaign does not take into account two basic ideas (that seem like common sense to me):

1) People (even women people) age. Women and men people, if they remain on the planet long enough, will look older than 18 at some point;

2) Young does not equal attractive. Old does not equal unattractive. But what if they did?

Is Facercise the answer? Uh ... enlarged eye sockets? I think not. The answer lies within the person. Each person. You know what I mean?