The Official Website!


It’s been 180 days since the inception of this (almost accidental) project. True, I meant to start a blog that documented my pubic hair regrowth, but I never in a million years envisioned that it would become such a renown and adored fixture within Tumblr society. I never thought I’d create a post that received over 100 thousand notes on it on this platform alone and has appeared within countless other venues on the internet. I never thought I’d receive so many messages that my fingers started to burn after hours of responding. I never thought I’d post a picture of my period on the internet and have people share it with their friends and praise me for my bravery, audacity and strength. A lot of things have happened since I started that I certainly never expected, but for which I’m absolutely grateful.

I am humbled, grateful and flattered that you, strangers who have never even met me, have given me so much of your love. That you have found solace in my words and enjoyment from my pictures. That you’ve written me countless letters of how you now finally have the strength to do things in your life that you have always wanted to and never felt you could. I am grateful too for the people who have hated me, written me nasty emails, left rude comments and ripped me apart on forums. You’ve taught me the ability to accept myself even more, and to know that no matter what I do, someone will find fault in me and I will never change that. I’ve learned to face criticism and to let it pass me by without taking it personally. I’ve learned to accept hate, and for this I honestly have the internet to thank.

This project has always been about me, and about the regrowth of my pubic hair. At 180 days, I feel like it’s to a point where I can safely say it’s full grown. It’s been just shy of half a year since I set out on this journey, and I think 180 is an appropriate place for it to end, signifying a full reversal – from bare to bush – a 180 degree turn around from the bare skin that started it all.

I will not be taking down any of my posts, or deleting my Tumblr or website. They will remain online and I’ll periodically check in and answer some messages when I have time, but for now, there will be no more posts. I’ve thought long and hard about this and have been trying to keep myself motivated, keep the creativity flowing and keep it interesting but at this point I have really run out of things to say. It’s a hard thing, walking away from something that has taken on a life of its own – to take a bow and turn your back on a full house of people who are all eager to hear what you have to say – but it’s something I need to do. If I come up with a fancy new venture, I’ll be sure to tell you all about it, but at the moment I have no such idea and I’m content in that.

For those of you who I know will write to me as soon as you read this and beg me to keep going and for those of you who have written in the past and begged me never to stop – I appreciate the sincerity and enthusiasm, but you’ve missed my point. This has always been about what I feel like doing, saying and posting. What I am doing with my body, how I feel about it at the time, what I’ve decide to do or not do, and so on. This has never been for or about anybody but me, and right now I no longer want to keep going with it. Sometimes when you embark on an idea with no end game, you can’t tell when it’s finished, but other times you can. Other times you reach a point where you realize in order to keep growing, you need to let go of it and start fresh, taking the lessons you’ve learned along the way and embracing whatever comes next. That is where I am, and it would be dishonest for me to keep going with this when my heart and soul are no longer there. This blog, above all, has always been about honesty, in everything that I’ve written and shared and on that I will not compromise.

I want to say one more thing and it has to do with the question of, “why?” Maybe I am the only person who faces this problem, but I doubt that is the case. So many times, I believe we are all guilty of stopping ourselves before we start something because we ask ourselves, “why?” Why should we do it, why should anyone care, why would we bother? To a degree, that question can be healthy but I think far too many times we let it limit us and silence us before we even open our mouths. Why would I ever start a blog documenting the regrowth of my pubic hair? Why would anyone possibly care about that? What good would that do me or anyone else in the world? Had I let those questions stop me, I wouldn’t be here today writing this. I wouldn’t have reached thousands of people all over the world, I wouldn’t have had the chance to cry over letters sent to me by strangers telling me how much they needed to hear my “voice” at that moment in their lives. It’s a lesson that I’m slowly learning, that sometimes the best way to learn the answer is to just simply start doing it and you’ll discover why you did it after the fact.

We are all capable of creating projects, reaching out to each other, forming little pockets of positivity and honesty within our worlds, and there doesn’t have to be a reason. Because we can. Because we want to. Because we have no idea what else we’re doing. Because we must. To borrow a famous quote, you really can be the change that you wish to see in the world. You don’t need me, I’m nobody special. You’ve got everything you need all inside of you, and if you feel that you don’t, just keep going and eventually you will. I am and always have been, an anonymous girl on the internet with no more credibility or clout than any person reading this. If I can build this with nothing but my words, my honesty and a digital camera, you can too. I believe in that one hundred percent.

Go get ‘em, tiger.



Just for fun, I decided to do a “bath tub comparison,” shot. Here’s my bush now, on day 176 and also way back on day 21. The hair has changed a whole lot but my love for bubble baths has obviously not changed a bit.


My breasts sag. It’s a fact I’m slowly starting to come to terms with, but sometimes it’s still a hard thing to admit. A while ago I mentioned accidentally losing some weight and my breasts have definitely begun to show the results of that weight loss. What remains are two saggy little lumps on my chest with stretch marks all around them. But this has happened before, and I’m sure it will happen again.

My body changes all the time and when my weight fluctuates, it changes my shape and drastically affects my breasts. I used to obsess over the way my breasts sagged and the stretch marks on them and I even bought a special cream that was supposed to be, “breast firming and stretch mark healing.” Yeah right. When I gain weight, they puff up and change shape and when I lose weight, they shrink down and hang there inside of skin that’s now too big for them. The challenge I face is to not view this as “bad,” but simply as “what my body does,” and a natural part of my life.

Sometimes I get stuck in the mentality of comparing them to all of the other breasts of women my age and shape and I let discontent and unhappiness creep in. I start thinking they’re not normal, they’re too saggy, other women don’t have to deal with this, and so on. There’s actually an awesome Tumblr blog I found that is all user submissions of breasts and sometimes viewing the diversity on there is a much needed wake up call for me. –

So what if my breasts sag, or if they’ve got stretch marks? They’re mine and they’re part of who I am and I need to love them and be happy with them in whatever shape they take on. Saggy breasts, perky breasts or no breasts, I’m still me and I can’t let their shape and size get in the way of how I feel about myself. My body is awesome and dynamic. It’s a living, breathing organism that changes and shows signs of wear and evolves and grows and shrinks. It’s fucking cool. And watching my breasts change shouldn’t be a bad thing, but rather just a thing that happens that’s part of who I am. Today my breasts are smaller and saggier than they were 6 months ago, but that does not for one second mean that they are any less awesome.


If my pelvis had eyes (like the googly eyes I stuck on it a while back), this is how it would see the world.


Today it hit me that I have a penchant for framing all of my images in the dead center of the frame. I don’t know why, but there’s just something so satisfying about seeing my crotch all up in the middle of an image. I’m sure there is some deep psychology behind that, but I’m not sure I’d want to know what that says about me as a person.