I know she's over 55. I know that makes her a Baby Boomer and therefore, she has different...values than I do. But holy crap, she just literally had a screaming meltdown because I lifted my arms and she saw that I had let my armpit hair grow in maybe one full centimeter.

Now, I don't personally like having armpit hair. For me it's itchy, for some reason it makes the antiperspirant I use less effective (maybe because it's not touching all of the skin? I dunno), and it traps smells worse than when my pits are shaved.

However, she does not get to tell me what to do with my body. No one else gets to tell me what to do with my pits BUT ME. Her reasoning was that armpit hair is "disgusting and ugly"; "Not culturally approved"; "look at what happened to Julia Roberts!"


(who, incidentally, still doesn't shave her armpits with regularity. I've seen her pit hair since the Oscars. The world hasn't collapsed in on itself.)

Advertisement

I do not care about her feelings about my armpits. It's kinda freeing in a way because I was always paranoid about whether or not she approved of the things I did. This is one of those things that gets the full "I DON'T CARE" treatment.

I didn't shrink away and just let her rail and than stomp away as she usually does. I literally gave her the "I'm an adult and you *points at mom* don't get to tell me what to do with my body.".

Now I'm stuck in the position where I don't want to shave in order to make the point but at the same time I'm about to go outdoors in the heat and my armpits are itchy and I really want to. Friggin' catch-22, man.