THE undoubtedly stunning Julia Roberts shocked the world at the 1999 premiere of her movie, Notting Hill, by waving her dainty hand at her doting fans and displaying her bushy armpits for all to see. She waved at her millions of fans with that killer smile of hers never leaving her face, seemingly oblivious to the effect her “pubic” hair was having on the watching world.
She was at the time dating an actor by the name of Benjamin Bratt and he is on record saying he loves his women dirty, “wild” and unshaven. Apparently, he got off from his woman’s natural scent and did not even want her to wear perfume. I don’t know whether he forced Julia not to shave or it was her choice to go ‘au naturale’ but when asked about it, she threw a casual, “That’s how my boyfriend likes it!” and calmly went on with her life, unshaven and all. Two years down the line, they broke up.
I used to be crazy about Avril Lavigne. She is a Canadian musician whose album “Let Go”, released on June 4, 2002, made her the youngest female soloist to have a number one album in the UK. I loved her hit song “Skater Boy” and several others she’s churned out over the years. In July 2010, when she was dating a guy named Brody Jenner, she had his name “Brody” tattooed under her right breast. I do not know if the gesture was solicited (or forced) or she did it all out of freewill. By 2012, they had broken up.
My friend’s baby sister fell in love with a married old man who was an “elder” in some apostolic church. She cut off her hair and started wearing those long white robes (garments) and ran away from home with him to South Africa, breaking her parents’ hearts. We tried everything to get her to come back. The police couldn’t help despite her being just a day over 16. She finally came back to her senses a few years later and came back home; but it wasn’t easy getting her life back on track. She had to go back to school, make new friends – basically start all over again. It has been over ten years now and despite the strides she has made, one can still tell something went wrong somewhere. She never did quite manage to get her innocence back.
We have all done crazy things for love I believe. Love makes us want to please the objects of our affections. It triggers something in us that makes us want to be the best we can be and sometimes to do that, we have to change a few things about ourselves. There are times when the changes are nothing but harmless compromises. Sometimes they are even necessary and help us become our best selves. Unfortunately, in some circumstances, we effect changes that put us in danger and are bad for us altogether.
I have an ex who didn’t want me wearing tight or “revealing” clothes. To crack my confidence, he would pass nasty comments whenever I rocked my skinny jeans and body suits. This one time he bumped into me while I was out about town and mocked me about how ridiculous I looked in my high waist jeans. He told me I looked like a pregnant lunatic with my huge tummy and all. Okay, I’m lying, I don’t remember his exact words but that was the gist of it. According to him I had a huge tummy and had no business wearing tight clothes. That hurt.
To protect myself, I had two choices, to change my body and/or wardrobe or to get rid of him. Due to financial constraints (among other things), I chose the latter and moved on to plan B. Plan B was tons of fun. He took me everywhere and loved showing me off. We went out for dinner one night and he complained that my dress was too long. You look like a granny he said, how about you wear that LBD (little black dress) that you look hot in. I quickly changed and off we went with me squeezed so tightly into the one size fits all dress that I was scared it would burst. It was fun while it lasted but I soon got tired of the baby doll look and always having to self-consciously pull down my micro minis so I dropped him like a hot potato.
I have come to the realisation that men have different ideas of the perfect woman. I know it seems obvious, seeing as we are all attracted to different things and we all have our strange or unique fetishes. The only problem is that we seem to go out of our way to change ourselves for every single guy that comes into our lives; instead of finding the perfect man for who we are, for us. We try and be the perfect woman for any man that shows even a bit of interest in us. That is not just sad, it is pathetic and harmful.
We need to value having an identity. To do that we must find that identity and know who we are. Know what we like. Have our own preferences. When we discover ourselves, we need to then develop the confidence to be ourselves and be true to ourselves. There is something about knowing who you are that is liberating. It is only when we are uncomfortable in our own skins that we are in danger of dancing to harmful tunes. We must be bold enough to say this is who I am, take it or leave it.
It is all fun and games when you flaunt your hairy armpit for your man like Julia Roberts because hey, you can always shave it off for the next guy. But is that really what we want to be as women? A toy for guys to customise as they please? I’m sure Avril Lavigne’s boyfriend was pretty chuffed when she got his name tattooed on her breast but if she is a typical boyfriend pleaser, imagine her distress when she started dating someone else. My friend’s sister will forever be known by most people in our small town as a member of that sect despite having divorced herself from it; a label I doubt she likes at all.
I was horrified last week when a doctor by the name Sindi van Zyll posted a thread on Twitter about what women do to dry up their vaginas for partners who want “dry sex”. I still cringe at the term “dry sex” but because it seems to be a real thing out there, we have to talk about it.
Biologically, by design that is, a woman will get wet when aroused. This process of lubrication happens to prevent damage to a woman’s vaginal walls during intercourse and under normal circumstances is also a sign that a woman is “in it” and enjoying the whole thing. A man who demands or expects dry sex is in essence telling you that he can only enjoy sleeping with you if you are in pain and unaroused. Why on earth should anyone accept that?
It breaks my heart that everywhere we turn women are being taught ways to keep a man. To keep a man one must behave in a certain manner. We must dress a certain way. We are raised to please men but they are not raised to please us. When we get married, aunties and uncles bombard us with how to please our husbands in bed and how to make sure they do not stray. Not once have I heard a man given tips of how to prevent their woman from straying yet all the ways of making them stay are the same reasons why we must run from these men and never look back.
If that is what God created us for, to be objects of men’s amusement, it is time we rebel against it! If I have to change my looks; change my wardrobe; change my character and hide my personality each time I meet a new guy I’d just rather be single. If I have to smell like a rotting fish and keep nests of hair on my body; if I must shove newspapers up my vagina, flavour it with stock (soup) cubes and scrub it with household detergent just so he doesn’t go; if the only way to make him happy is through painful sex that leaves me at the risk of disease (STIs and cancers)… well, I might as well be alone.
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