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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at CU Boulder chapter.

“Intimate.” I used to hear this word and think of sex, closeness, or even vulnerability. I always thought of it in the context of a close friend, a lover, or even sometimes a stranger. Before my waxing experience, I thought I knew what intimacy was, right up until the feeling of hot wax was slathered across my own hoohaw. For those who are curious about getting a Brazilian Wax, this is for you.  

It was a chilly day as I climbed the many steps that led to the unknown territory of Brazil on the Hill, my local wax place. I had done my research beforehand, but I could not imagine or have any expectations for what was to happen. Once I reached the top of the stairs, I was met and greeted by the receptionist. She already had all the papers that a first-time client needed to fill out ready to go. I grabbed the clipboard and tried to channel my nerves into the paper itself. 

Soon enough, it was time to be called into the room of “Beauty.” The first thing I noticed was the light notes of peaceful music surrounding the room. Despite the calming music, it did everything but soothe my nervous system which was currently on fire in anticipation. I was introduced to Julie, the waxer who would soon get to know my body very well on a professional level. She had a polite but upfront atmosphere to her being. She had asked me about my experience with waxing itself. I let her know that I grew up with waxing my legs, and that I have gone up to my upper thighs, and that was as far I personally have gone with hair removal. She nodded and gestured for me to undress as she left the room to go get more waxing supplies. I wriggled out of my jeans and underwear. I hopped back up onto the waxing bed and covered myself with the light cotton sheet she had left me with. I assumed that it was meant to cover genitalia before that part was to be waxed. Not soon after, she came back and started on my legs. My nerves were hidden for quite some time as I was used to waxing on the parts of my legs. Small talk was made between myself and her as she worked her way up my legs. Once she started to reach the upper lines of my thighs, my mind started to race against the nerves that were coming out of hibernation. She noticed my nerves and gave me insight that this reaction was normal for first timers.  Julie shared that previous clients have felt the leg waxing to be somewhat therapeutic, and that it was perfectly okay to cry. To be honest with you, I thought she was kidding when she said this. With my permission, she started in the anus region. This wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was a weird sensation of a hot substance soon replaced with the hot tingling sensation that occured after the ripping of hairs, courtesy of the wax strips.

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Original Illustration by Megan Charles for Her Campus Media

 Once that region was finished she moved onto the terrifying part. She had me hold my own body in a way that allowed her to reach certain areas that usually are hidden to the world. Unreachable parts of my body that I myself didn’t even know existed. My nerves, thoughts, and embarrassment were through the roof at this point. What if I had something like toilet paper stuck there? What if I had a wonky vag?. After the first strip of vaginal hair, OUCH. Did it hurt? Absolutely, the type of physical pain that brings you out of your own head and forces you to be present in the moment you are in. All of a sudden, I wasn’t afraid or nervous in the slightest. I was in the intimate moment where a person was seeing my body, but not sexualizing it. She had seen a lot of vaginas in her line of work, seen it all in fact. I was not the first one, a body was just a body at this point in time. 

Despite my new found relaxation and contentment with the process that was happening, things were starting to get more painful at this point. The closer she got to the clitoris and labia, the more I started to realize why she told me it might be therapeutic. I know, it sounds crazy. The pain level of the wax placement was intense to the point where tears came to my eyes. It was a sensitive and intimate moment. Emotions I didn’t think I had came bubbling to the surface. Although this sounds like a negative experience, honestly I would consider it a positive one. I came to terms with my body and left much less insecure. I mean, I just bared my body to someone who went ahead and removed a lot from my being: hair, an emotional buildup, and insecurity itself. I will admit that I felt like a naked mole rat after the waxing experience, but I was glad I went through with the waxing impulse. I didn’t do it for anyone but myself, and I think that’s what made it an extra special experience. I was not doing it for anyone’s benefit but for my own needs and wants. I would personally recommend trying it once, but it may not be for anyone. For those who like to be lazy but also be hairless, I would say go for it. It lasted quite a while for my own body type. It is different for each body, but worth it!

Content written by various anonymous CU Boulder writers