‘Is that my pussy?’

I got up at eight on a Saturday morning and filled the bathtub with a ridiculous amount of bubble bath. My mind was swimming with all the tips I had received since we first made the bet, tips on how to go about ridding myself of pussy hair for the very first time.

Don’t use an electric shaver, it will pinch your skin. Trim first. Make sure you use a brand new razor. Shave with the grain. Wax. Don’t wax. It hurts like hell. It’s not that bad! Go see Zoë in Greektown — quick, no questions asked and she’ll probably wax your asshole for free. You can’t wax it yourself. Of course you can wax it yourself. You’re going to have the worst ingrown hairs — you’ll get one that looks like a zit. It’ll be sore! You have to moisturize constantly for a whole week. If you shave it, you have only a 12-hour window where it’s really smooth. After that, avoid friction and stay away from oral.

As you can imagine, I was feeling a little apprehensive as I lay on my back, twisting this way and that, trying to keep with the grain. Anna said the grain would change when I least expected it and she was right. Shaving your pussy in the direction of hair growth is like throwing a Frisbee into the wind.

I stood in front of the mirror for a long time when I was done. Is that my pussy? I never thought of her as another reflection of my mixed-race existence, another indication of how I am different from many of the women I’ve slept with. My pussy is brown, almost purple like my nipples. She is round and full and not at all ugly like I feared she might be. I had actually been afraid of what I was going to find under my hair. All the pussies I’d seen looked “normal” to me. For some reason, I didn’t expect mine to look “normal.” But she looked unique, right for me and, I am pleased to say, “normal” enough. She was simpler than I expected, and part of me thought, “That’s all?” It all seems much more complicated with hair on it.

When I emerged from the bathroom it was nearly 10:30am. Damp pajamas, I slid back into bed with Andrea. She didn’t peak right away like I thought she would. “So I guess we have sex now?” she asked.

“We don’t have to,” I said, but really we had to. My 12-hour window was ticking away.

Contrary to popular belief, including my own, I did not feel like a little girl. When I climbed on top of her and pushed her legs open, I was conscious of how obvious my clit was. There was nowhere to hide, nothing to obscure the picture of her between my legs. I felt exposed but I felt free and I felt like I was allowing myself to be seen truly for the first time in my life.

The best part by far was her mouth on me, how it was like I was finally completely in her mouth and I could feel everything. Never have I been so consumed.

I felt all kinds of things for about three days — my button fly, the countertop, my choice of underwear, which suddenly became so very important. It was a surprise every time I pulled my pants down.

I was paranoid about getting itchy and contending with all those ingrown hairs but it was all for nothing. No one told me about the stuff I instinctively knew would be best for a newly shaved pussy: baby powder. Thanks to that I had no issues with regrowth. Or maybe it was just beginner’s luck.

I felt most sexy after a week, still exposed but darker, sexier — the way I’ve imagined I might feel with a five o’clock shadow. Would I do it again? I will probably trim differently now. My pussy has grown up a bit, obtained some self-awareness and shed some residual inhibition.

The feeling of looking in the mirror and not recognizing my own pussy made me uneasy. It’s like the first time you shave your head — a small percentage of you expects there to be a lump or a dent or some giant surprise birthmark that will make your new look impossible to pull off or live down.

I’ve always said every woman should shave her head at least once in her life, just to know what it feels like to not fuss with it, spend money on it, spend self-esteem on it. Now I believe it’s the same with your pussy. Every woman should shave it once, especially us tops and soft butches. Yes, we all masturbate, and I know my body to touch it. But really knowing it to see it is a very different thing and a very valuable thing. Today I am one giant step closer to self-awareness and one baby step closer to self-acceptance.