An Open Letter To All My Wildebeest Pals


*Illustration by Julia's Brother, an art student living in NYC


Once upon a time, a Jewish man and an Italian woman created a bristly

beast who grew unruly hair all over her body. At first, it was no

problem to the little girl who spent days in the sun showing off her

hair at every angle. Until fourth grade that is. A boy walked up to

her one day and began to make fun of the hair that sprouted from her

arms. “Ew,” he screamed. The other boys retreated to safety, shunning

the little girl to self-doubt and anguish for her dark, long hairs

that appeared on her skin genetically. She went home that night masked

with self-doubt, knowing what she had to do. She went into her mothers

bathroom, and grabbed the razor, unknowing of its vast power and

shredded her fur from her arms down to her toes. Refreshed from the

smoldering shower and lack of hair, she went to bed ready to show-off

her airbrushed look. Her legs felt itchy, as if pocket-sized crabs

nestled into her sheets and fed off her skin throughout the night. She

woke up with red blotchy dots around her knee caps towards her calves,

thinking it was bed bugs or chickenpox. “Mom”, “Mom” she cried out.

The mom looked at her shaven legs with intensity.


That day was the day I found out my hair would never be the same

again. I tried almost everything from Nair to Sugar Scrub to

Epilators. My skin was helpless. The more I wanted to rid my skin of

hair, the more the hair would push back, finding shelter under my

epidermis. I don’t know the reason for this turn of events. Maybe it’s

because I used an old razor, or maybe it’s because I didn’t use any

shaving cream, or maybe it’s just because my hair wasn’t ready to be

dislodged.


My legs have turned 24 and are still peppered with ingrown hair. But,

this time I don’t mind it. I have grown to accept the dots on my skin

for what they are, mine. And guess what? Nobody cares about the hair

that grows from your body when you're an adult. I have accepted that

my body is different from others. There are days when I find my legs

hideous, like when I am in the bath and the hot bubbles haven’t

covered my body or when I am swimming in the ocean and the salt water

reddens the tiny marks on my legs. But, there are days when the sun

hits my legs and my hair feels cheery and warm, thankful for the

Vitamin C or when it’s cold out and the protective layer of hair

shields me from the freezing temperatures.


For that, I urge all young people with vaginas out there, don’t get

rid of your beautiful hair because of others. Sometimes it is costly,

sometimes it leads to pain, and other times it works out just right.

But just do what you feel is best. Oh and ask an adult for advice

before using a razor. Thank you :)

Julia Cramer is a recent marketing graduate looking to expand her horizons with creative writing. Currently, working on a fiction book while working as a part-time tutor and nanny in Brooklyn, NY. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out on Instagram or LinkedIn.

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