| True Love With A Bearded Woman | |||
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This is a story about my relationship with Sarah -- I’m making up this name -- an extremely hirsute woman who, in my estimation, would rival Pam Winter as the world’s most hirsute woman. I met Sarah through, of all places, a dating service. I had just moved to Denver from northern Colorado and she had moved there from the East Coast -- Connecticut, I think. At the time we met she was a shaver. Head to toe. She took over two hours in the bath preparing for each day. Sarah thought she had a deep dark secret and felt compelled to hide it from the world. In fact, she wouldn’t even let me in the door if I surprised her by dropping by. It was always come back in an hour or two and we can do something. I couldn’t think of a way to tell her I knew and thought it was OK. On occasion, we would see a woman who didn’t shave either her armpits or her legs or both and it was Sarah who would make a comment. After 3 months of dating I invited Sarah along on a 21 day backpacking trip I had already planned for myself -- my annual “vision quest”. With a little hesitation she accepted. As the time to leave came near she really became excited at the idea. It seemed she had never been camping before and this would be a real adventure. I made sure we would never be more than a days walk out if she decided this wasn’t for her. The day before the trip we went shopping for our food -- mostly dried -- and laid out all of our gear prior to packing. Being much more experienced at long wilderness trips we agreed I should veto power over unnecessary belongings. We had to move much of the heavy food and freshies to the airdrop we would pick up for our last week. The items Sarah lost were two of the three pairs of blue jeans, one pair of shorts, three of the six tee-shirts, and a few other articles of clothing; then came the things that almost made her stay home: her razor and makeup kit. Sarah, at this point, got a severe case of what she used to call the “fat and uglies”. In truth, she was at this time about 30 pounds overweight and at her request I had planned many short walking days and R&R days into the trip. We sat down and I attempted to tell her how I felt about I felt about her. I was first attracted to the deep brown eyes and the sarcastic sense of humor. This evolved into a romantic desire or infatuation with a warm, caring person with a quick wit and who was, in my opinion, very attractive. With this all said I broached the subject of her hairiness. I, as delicately as I could, told Sarah I knew she shaved most of her body, including her face and I had known it since our first date. She treated this with surprise and shame. At this point I pulled her in and held her tight and told her it didn’t matter to me. We spent the rest of the evening talking about it; she cried alot. In the end, I
convinced her to go on the trip and do the one thing only a few hours before had been unthinkable, leave her razor behind. She even jokingly said we could have a beard growing contest. There was about 20 years of hurt inside Sarah, but we had three weeks alone in the back country to begin dealing with it. After our first night about 5 miles into the Flattops Wilderness of Colorado Sarah woke me in the morning by scratching her face against my back. When I rolled over she looked at me and said she was “without a doubt going to win the contest”. I had to agree, I’m blonde and my hair grows slowly, on the other hand, Sarah had a dark shadow extending from one ear across her face to the other. Our legs rubbed together and I felt the sand paper legs of her overnight growth. She looked me in the eyes and said “ready for this? We can still turn around and never see each other again.” I just shrugged, grabbed her bristly thighs and said “I can’t wait til it gets long and soft.” She smiled and we made love for the first time. During the three weeks of hiking, fishing, and other fun, Sarah started to realize she was not a freak, just a hairy person. For those of you who want to know; by the time we came out Sarah had lost more than 15 pounds, her legs were covered with dark half inch long coarse hair -- far hairier than any of Pam’s models -- her stomach was covered with the same coarse hair that trailed up between her breasts and formed a sort of V just under her collar bone. Her beard, too, was almost half an inch long; definitely winning the contest. I still have bragging rights to the hairiest chest though. Over the course of the trip Sarah prepared herself for what she was going to get when we got out of the wilderness. I promised I would find a hotel and let her clean up before she came out in public. I liked her hairy and thought it was all going away with the swoop of the razor in one night. As promised, she didn’t have to see a soul while I checked in at the motel in Steamboat Springs. I went to the City Market and picked up the items of destruction and returned. I handed the disposable razor, soap, and shampoo to her as she went into the bathroom with the statement “I like the fur.”
Sarah called me into the bathroom about 10 minutes into her grooming and told me she had only decided her face was the only thing she was going to continue to shave. “You know, social norms and all...” I watched her start, and volunteered to shave her face after a few minutes. She accepted and I was given one of the most erotic experiences of my life. Upon returning to Denver, Sarah to her house and me to mine, the relationship grew until we moved in together after a year. This is not the “happily ever after ending” we all would like to hear though. About nine months later I was given the opportunity to work in Antarctica for a season. Sarah encouraged and supported me on my decision to go. Little did I know this would be the end of our relationship. Sarah had been growing comfortable, even confrontive about her hirsuteness. She often wore shorts, sleeveless shirts, and mid-length tee-shirts to “get comments”. When she saw somebody staring she would massage the area of their interest and say something like “like it?” or “cool, huh?”. She was finding alot of the time people were not repulsed, rather, attracted and/or curious. At one point she even grew a goatee. I enjoyed her new found freedom of expression, it made her even more attractive. Yes, I liked the hair, too. While in Antarctica, I received the “Dear Sam” letter. In it she said she had not
viewed herself as attractive since she was 11 and her mother insisted she begin shaving that little mustache as well as those furry legs. Now, she had men calling her, asking her out, and telling her how much they like her individuality. She likes “feeling beautiful” and wants the attention.
Naturally, I was hurt, but at the bottom of the world there’s not much one can do but accept facts as they are or go crazy. I chose the former. We remained in contact for a while later, she even, at one point, thanked me for helping her to find herself. As far as I know Sarah is still unshaven and enjoying herself in Denver or Boulder. As for me, I found another adventure in Alaska. I miss her, beard and all.
The point is, hirsute women are attractive, witty, individuals. If they shave, so be it. If they find it too much trouble and don’t, so be it. If they hide it they’re depriving only themselves of a full and happy life. Sarah, like Pam Winter, have embraced the “take me as I am” attitude. Good for you!!
Dammit, says Pam, why can't I meet a guy like that?????????
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