At least it was an incentive to keep my kit clean, although while on a training camp in the Pyrenees one year I had to miss a day because of ingrown hair on my bum. In fact, I even asked for laser hair-removal for my birthday. When I got back to school in September, every time I raised my hand in class, I made sure to cover my armpit with my other hand. We got in one evening and I made him pluck out every one. And I wanted to be it, even though I was just a half-Jewish kid from the suburbs with a round belly and an overbite. Why was I so proud of being able to grow body hair everywhere except my back? One guy in particular was exceedingly vicious on Grindr.
I guess some of the emotions about being so hairy related to coming out as gay.
Matt Lister: Why I decided to ditch the razor and start loving my hairy body
And with adolescence came armpit hair. But after some hairty moments trying to get ride of it, the Attitude columnist and champion canoeist learnt to love it The exact way my body wanted itself to be. I always knew I was gay. But around the age of 11, things began to change. I was fine with my excess hair making me look older than my friends at school, and among my British canoeing teammates, but I wished my hairy back would go away.
Hairless was the only thing to be. But sometimes, the right man can take your deepest insecurity and make it feel like your biggest asset. These were dark, black Sicilian hairs that shot up long, thick, and curly, straight from the root. Instead of feeling gawky or ugly, I feel earthy, natural, and true. I even spiked the hair on my head where my hair belonged with gobs of electric blue gel, so I would look like one of the members of NSYNC. At the end of the day, we just eat, sleep, and have sex: I always knew I was gay.