Soraia wants to know what my main regrets are in life.
I spent the whole day here trying to think of a deep, sensitive list that would reaffirm me as the complex writer I believe I am. However, Soraia deserves my truth. The first two that came to mind were: camping in Brotas and anal waxing.
Sleeping in a tent is among the worst things that can happen to a human being. I already had an H3N2 that left me hospitalized, unable to stand, which made me send tearful and desperate goodbye audios to groups of friends and family.
Yet I have never, ever, not for a second considered this 2021 holiday where I slept in the hospital with a 103 degree fever worse than the 2003 holiday where I camped for half a day. Yes, because the next morning I collected my little things and went home.
Her boyfriend at the time threatened to end things “if you really are that kind of woman.” He had about 654 insect bites on his body, he was wearing filthy beige cargo shorts that matched his brown canteen and his brown pajamas. I remember thinking “how am I going to give up this promising and sensual good match” — because we love a lot of bizarre things in life before we reach an age where we become mentally decent.
But, even knowing the pain of losing that male and the great promise of a full future by his side, I said “it’s okay, it’s over” as if telling the bakery cashier that he doesn’t need to kill himself to find a five cent coin .
But let’s go back to the issue of anal waxing.
Soraia, who sent me the question on Instagram, defines herself as a feminist with an open mind and a free body. I didn’t zoom in on photos of her, but I imagine her armpit might be beautifully hairy. Which I find tremendously sexy on other women, but I’ll hardly be able to “use” this latest craze of militant fashion, since I’ve had my underarms laser shaved for over 15 years.
I’m from a generation where a lot of things went wrong. Soraia is from a generation where other things went very wrong. One of the things that definitely went wrong in my generation is that, at the age of 27, I went to an establishment with lemon and mint flavored water at the reception (before everywhere had that) which was on United States Street, I got naked and in four, and I allowed a woman with “MIB, Men in Black” glasses (I also wore the same one) to put a laser in my anus.
It hurt like few things in life. And the whole scene was too humiliating because I was moaning naked, on all fours and wearing sunglasses in an all-white room that was playing Djavan. What is all this for, my sister Soraia? For what, tell me? For MAN. I wasn’t even a fan of supine positions, but it was common sense at the time that our anuses didn’t offend the cuties by displaying their real nature.
Today I wouldn’t do that. You, Soraia, would never do that. But in 2007, four years after I tried to please a man at a camp in Brotas, I tried to please another man by laser waxing my hair. A man who didn’t even deserve an “oops, how are you?” in elevator. What will I say if I spent a fortune (it was very expensive at the time) to clear my furico?
You, Soraia, may be able to have open relationships, be able to experience all the splendor of your pleasure and desire. And do, without subterfuge, what everyone has done at least once in their lives, which is crush on more than one or six people at the same time.
But I’m from the generation of the pussy shaved with hot honey wax, leaving just that cute “v”. I’m from the generation of big smooth lips, so as not to make boys choke on oral sex with our devilish hairs. Bad things, right? That’s when they were willing to do something for us.
The invention of the man concerned with our pleasure, I confess, came about when I was already over 37 years old. To this day, when I see a woman in a bikini with her mustache hanging out, I think “my daughter, by God, that’s not cool, angel”.
A lot of things went wrong with my generation, with the mud that was introjected into my brain, but there is always time for change. About two years ago, the hair on the bottom started to come back.
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