Female body hair: what's normal and what's not

And why that question might be the wrong one entirely.

Hey y’all, I’m writing this post to kick off my Substack’s new section Body Hair Everywhere. I plan to write more about this topic in the future. If this is your kinda thing, make sure you’re subscribed. If not, you can unsubscribe from this section of the newsletter here.

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Sometime in the 4th grade—around age 9 or 10—I remember shaving my legs for the first time.

In absolute secrecy, I grabbed the dish soap and my mom’s razor and headed into the bathroom alone. No idea what I was doing. Just determined to remove my body hair. Because by that time, it had already been drilled into me: I shouldn’t have it—or there was something wrong with mine.

I also specifically remember noticing how hairy my best friend’s legs were at the time. They were a thick fuzzy blonde. It’s fine on her, I remember saying to myself, comparing the two of us as we were coming of age. Everything seemed cuter, more acceptable, more normal on her pretty, blond, petite frame. Me—with my dark hair and towering at least a foot above my peers—well, there had to be something wrong with me.

That’s what I internalised already as a kid as I began my own journey to try and answer the question: What is actually normal when it comes to female body hair?

Because we all grow it—on our legs, under our arms, around our vulvas, on our bellies, our faces, our toes, and everywhere in between. It’s there because we’re human mammals. But the pressure to keep it hidden, bleached, waxed, tweezed, shaved, or lasered away is so deeply ingrained that many of us hardly question it anymore.

So let’s talk about it, shall we?

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What is normal when it comes to female body hair?

The short answer → There is no single “normal” when it comes to female body hair.

What’s biologically normal varies widely and depends on genetics, hormones, ethnicity, and age.

Completely normal places to have body hair include:

• Legs, arms, and underarms

• Pubic area (in various patterns, thickness, and colors)

• Face (upper lip, chin, jawline, or sideburns)

• Stomach, chest, nipples, lower back, and buttocks

• Toes and fingers

Some women grow very fine, light-colored body hair. Others grow thick, dark hair in multiple areas. Both are entirely natural and healthy.

Body hair typically appears during puberty and can increase or decrease with age, hormonal changes (like pregnancy or menopause), or underlying conditions such as PCOS.

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Why we think it’s “too much”

Here’s the truth: the idea that women should be mostly or completely hairless is a modern invention.

In the early 1900s, razor companies began marketing underarm hair removal to women. By the 1940s, leg shaving became a norm. Then bikini lines. Then Brazilian waxes. And suddenly, “normal” meant “bare.”

But those norms? They’re not based on biology. They’re based on capitalism, patriarchy, and a narrow definition of desirability. It’s no coincidence that a global hair removal industry worth billions relies on women believing their natural bodies need constant fixing.

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Even “excessive” hair growth on a woman = normal

Excessive or sudden hair growth in areas more typical of male patterns (chest, lower abdomen, face) could indicate a hormonal imbalance such as hirsutism, often caused by high levels of androgens. The most common cause is polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS). If you're noticing changes, it may be worth speaking with a healthcare provider.

Keep in mind, the Cleveland Clinic notes that about 40% of women are affected by hirsutism. So if that’s you (and it certainly is me) - we’re definitely not alone.

Source: Cleveland Clinic

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My relationship with body hair

As I’ve written about in the past, I have a complicated relationship with my body hair. I completely get it - wanting to shave it all off one day; then maybe questioning that and wanting to embrace it the next. Here’s another post where I share my story:

The truth is, I still shave sometimes (usually to much regret). And sometimes I don’t. I’ve let my armpit hair grow for years now and guess what? No one died. I quite like it.

I’ve felt embarrassed in yoga class when my unshaved legs (and feet, and toes) peeked out of my leggings. I’ve gone months without touching my pubic hair—and then shaved it all off again. Recently I even did what I thought I would never do - laser off my facial hair - because that is one area of body hair that I just couldn’t bring myself to love and accept. And guess what? It was liberating as fuck. To do the thing I swore to myself I would never do.

Each choice felt different. Not because of the hair itself, but because of the meaning I’d attached to it.

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So… what IS normal? And what isn’t?

• It’s normal to have body hair as a female human.

• It’s normal for that hair to vary from minimal to more prominent.

• It’s normal to struggle with body image in a society that expects women to be hairless and (eww) childlike.

And I would argue…

• It isn’t normal to remove all your body hair on a daily/weekly basis.

• It isn’t normal (or shouldn’t be) to question your value as a woman based on what your body looks like.

• It isn’t normal to treat women like some lesser form of human based on their decision to keep their body hair intact.

But maybe that’s the wrong question.

Maybe the better one is: What feels honest, kind, and free—to you?

This post is not to say that you shouldn’t remove your body hair. If you want to shave, shave. If you don’t, don’t. If you're not sure, try both and see how it feels—not how it looks to someone else.

Because the hair on your body isn’t a problem to solve.

It’s a part of your story. One you get to write.

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