writing

5 Reasons I Don’t Remove my Body Hair (as an Autistic Queer Woman)

AnnaLeave a comment

Shaving daily used to be the norm for me. Like many women the moment my first not-peach-fuzz hair appeared, it was swiftly removed. I was indirectly taught that it was something to be ashamed of, to always hide or erase. Though there was some excitement at first, after all I got a present; a hot pink electric razor. But as I’ve gotten older and started stepping into my identity as a queer autistic woman, I’ve stopped shaving.

1. Sensory Nightmare

Shaving felt like hell. I was constantly itchy, scratchy, had ingrown hairs, cuts, razor bumps, and even hives. I tried out different shaving products, but I quickly developed sensitivities and allergies to them. No razor, electric or not, seemed to work for me. At the same time, all these negatives inputs were amplified from me having autistic burnout.

2. More Energy

As someone who can struggle to scrape the energy together to brush my teeth, shaving is just one more things to do. Doing less means I have more energy to do what’s important to me. Not shaving also increases my emotional capacity because of the reduction in sensory discomfort.

3. Saves Time

Similar to above, doing less means I have more time to do what I need to do.

4. Saves Money

As someone with a ton of hobbies, I appreciate having extra money around.

5. Affirms My Identity

Not shaving also affirms my identity. It validates and accommodates my needs as an autistic person, as well as my identity as a queer woman.

I don’t shave at all anymore. I also didn’t stop shaving cold turkey. I purchased a men’s electric razor with a trimmer, and just kept my hair very short. Over time I’ve grown more comfortable and usually just leave my hair alone. Though I do admit I will trim it down for formal dress occasions, or wear clothes that conceal it. I’m not saying removing your body hair is good or bad. I’m just saying it’s not for me, but if you want to go for it! Do what feels good for you. For me, not shaving is mainly a sensory accommodation.

Screen Time Escapism

AnnaLeave a comment

Escapism

“Habitual diversion of the mind to purely imaginative activity or entertainment as an escape from reality or routine.”

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

I can often identify if my neurodivergent self is stressed out by the sheer amount of screen time I’m consuming.

I’m a late diagnosed autistic. I’m still learning how to identify what I’m feeling and notice said feelings before they hit a 7. It’s hard to regulate your stress if you aren’t totally aware of it in the first place. Recently I’ve started to notice the pattern; stress leads to more screen time; excess screen time leads to more stress.

This blog post is about my personal experiences and is not professional medical or mental health advice.

As a child, my escapism was my imagination; daydreaming up stories and acting them out. Later it was devouring books instead of doing schoolwork (algebra could wait, I needed to know how Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban ended). When I acquired my own laptop and near unlimited screen time as a late teen, I binge watched YouTube until 3 am. Now I binge and rewatch my comfort shows, sometimes all day. While I don’t think there anything wrong with finding comfort from these things, it has become a bit of a problem.

Mainly the frequency is interfering with day-to-day life. It’s hard to do things (like writing this blog post) while my brain is craving the next episode of a show. To watch it right now would feel so good; but I’ve already watched an entire season today.

It’s also a short term escape from stress and just delays what what needs to be delt with. The moment I turn off my tablet the feeling of numbing bliss turns to wanting more, all while being stared at by a growing to-do list. Plus, it doesn’t just put off doing important things to the last minute, it sucks up time better spent on my interests.

If binge watching was a full-time job, I would be set for life.

But why do I need escapism at all? From sensory sensitivities, forcing eye contact, to fears of contamination and random death, life has been inherently uncomfortable and confusing for me. But now that I’m aware of it, I have a chance to change and adapt to my needs instead of cramming myself into box.

I would love to know what your early signs of stress are and what (hopefully healthier) strategies for relief you use.