Not once in my earthly life have I ever considered myself a hippie. Hippy - yes. Hippie - no.
Even my parents, who were part of the right generation, were never hippies. My dad had a ponytail for a brief period and my mom loved her macrame. That's as close as it got.
However, without any real effort on my part, I seem to be moving more and more towards a more natural way of being. Perhaps I'm just getting older and becoming more aware of how I need to respect and take care of my body and environment. Or perhaps Mother Nature has been speaking to me all along and I've only now begun listening.
All around me there's little changes. Organic foods are taking up a larger spot in my grocery cart than ever before, and that's when I bother to grocery shop. I've had a field day at local produce stands and farmer's markets this past spring and summer. I'm opting to make and use natural cleansers to avoid harsh chemicals. I'm bartering my goods and handiwork for that of others : haircuts, handmade soap, and lip balm. Not only do I reduce, reuse, and recycle, but I compost, too.
You're more likely to find me sans bra than sporting one. The first thing I want to do when I get home is strip down to as little as possible and pad around the house barefoot. I have a new appreciation for the body as it was created, and honestly one of my biggest regrets is that as a young mother I stupidly conformed to modern medical beliefs and had my son circumcised. It's no secret that I happen to love a man in his natural, hairy state. If you're naturally smooth, that's cool too. Whatever is good for you is good for me.
Personally, I prefer to be smooth. It's not a chore for me to remain smooth. I have genetics to thank for that. But 3 weeks ago I didn't shave. I don't know why. I just didn't. Not even on sheet changing day. And there's almost nothing better than smooth clean legs sliding into fresh, soft sheets.
I took out my shaving supplies, set them on the edge of the tub, and during my washing, conditioning, scrubbing, and exfoliating I couldn't bring myself to pick up the razor. Why? I thought. I'll just be miserable in two days scratching like crazy at the itchy new growth. I'll leave marks, then the body lotion will sting, because I always have to use lotion. And if I'm not going to shave my legs, why would I shave my underarms? And since I was already a couple weeks behind on shaving my pussy, well...a matched set made more sense to me. I'll be saving time, the environment, and some sanity all in one.
So, how's it going? Well, I decided to show off my fluff and fuzz to Od, so he would know this was an intentional move. He leaned in closely to peer at my pits, rubbed them to verify there was anything there, then said "I'm proud of you for trying." Then the fucker laughed at me! You see, he's pretty much got the market cornered in our household as far as body hair goes. Me? Well, *sigh...*, I resemble a 13 year old blond boy trying to grow a beard.
I was expecting him to complain about my leg hair the most, but it's grown in so soft and sparse that it's been a non-issue. Not that he would complain. He's not like that. Actually, he wouldn't say so if I asked directly, in case I change my mind, but I think he prefers me with a bush. He's been petting me more than usual. That may or may not be due to a month long dry spell we just got over. The point is, he seems to like it, and I do too.
It'll be easy for me to keep this up for awhile because fall is right around the corner with it's cool weather requiring leg coverings and long sleeves. For now I'm keeping as much as possible au naturale.