Anna was different. She'd known that at least since the ninth grade. Now, well into her thirties, any angst or shame was ancient history. Anna felt nothing but pride in her natural beauty.
Until now.
Anna was so angry she didn't even notice at first that her coffee mug was burning her fingers as she gripped it in rage. How could Sharla do this to her? Granted, they'd never met and didn't even recognize each other in person -- since Sharla was careful not to post photographs of herself on her website -- but after all the positive comments Anna had left on Sharla's website and the great feedback she'd received, she'd felt an undeniable bond with her favorite blogger. That bond now lay shattered as Anna's disbelieving eyes scanned Sharla's latest post, and she felt herself drawing her legs together as if to hide what was already hidden in her tailored black pants.
If only she had shown a bit more of that shyness at the gym a few days before..."No," Anna admonished herself silently. "You're not the one with anything to be ashamed of here. She is."
But Anna's beloved Sharla -- "The Lesbo You Know" as her blog was entitled -- showed no sign of shame whatsoever in her commentary about the beloved fan she was so callously insulting.
Y'all know how I'm all for women embracing their bodies of every shape and size,
Anna read yet again, as if hoping the words would change magically on her computer screen.
I'm having second thoughts about that after something that happened at the gym the other day.
I'm not saying which gym for now, because I don't want to give it a bad rap. It was my first time there and I found the facilities delightful for the most part. The staff was super-helpful, too. And most of the ladies I crossed paths with? Mrowwr! I may very well yet go back there.
However, in the locker room after my workout, I saw something I can never unsee. As I donned my towel for the march to the showers, I passed by three women who were standing naked by the stalls and chatting casually. Sharla's dream, right? Guess again! You see, one of these free-spirited ladies had a beaver roughly the size of South America. Seriously, we're talking the Bermuda Triangle here: huge and dark and dangerous. I could and did look away, but I don't think I'll ever drink that sight off my mind. I also can't get over the likely reaction of some poor gal or guy whom she invites up for coffee after a third date...just how would you react to a surprise like that?! Geez, lady, get a Brazilian, whoever you are!
No one could know, Anna reminded herself. Even Sharla herself couldn't have known the woman she had so callously insulted was her devoted fan, known online as AnnaBanana, with whom she'd been sharing flirtatious feedback for months.
Was
her devoted fan.
But Anna knew.
Anna who had known she was different all that time, who had been ashamed of her huge bush in her younger years but had long since learned to love it, who had attracted her boyfriend by letting the secret of her uniqueness slip in a bathing suit when they were both living overseas, who had seduced him in an elevator just afterwards and let love grow as wild and untamed as her bush, who had since moved back home with him, who had started a trend at the gym of not hiding in one's towel before and after a shower, and who was utterly proud of her unusual but beautiful body...she knew a woman she had admired enormously had seen her body and concluded that she was a freak of nature.
She also knew she'd better close her browser and get to work. But she just couldn't let this go by without a comment. Hastily "AnnaBanana" clicked on the Comments box and typed, "Sharla, this isn't like you! Every woman's beautiful, isn't that what we always say? So you saw one who happens to have a lot of vagina hair -- that's hardly a crime, is it? If she was naked in public with her friends, it sounds like she's comfortable with her body, too. I think we ought to applaud that, not attack her for it."
With that, Anna felt a little better, and she closed her browser and turned her attention to work. She remembered a moment too late that she had used her and Chuck's private term, "vagina hair", something neither of them ever did in public. But it was too late to change that now, and it wasn't as though Sharla wouldn't know what she meant. In fact, Anna reflected, she was just as proud of her name for the hair as she was of the hair itself. She and Chuck had started calling it that after learning they had both used the term as children, before they knew the word "pubic," and that neither of them cared for that word. It had been -- and still was -- one of many ways in which they had bonded in the sweetest of ways after their unlikely meeting halfway around the world. That sort of touch was just what Sharla's horrible commentary called for.
By five o'clock, Anna was feeling quite a bit better and had nearly resolved not to dwell on it any further. But she just had to check and see if Sharla had paid her comment any mind. So just before turning her work computer off, she returned to The Lesbo You Know and checked the comments -- and promptly wished she hadn't.
"Hi, AnnaBanana! When are we going to get together for that drink, anyway?
Listen, you'd understand if you'd seen this gorilla. I would never fat-shame, weight can't be helped. This lady just needed five minutes with a razor and she'd have been fine. Every woman is beautiful, all right, but her grooming choices aren't always. What would you say about a woman who never washed her hair? On her head I mean, never mind...that! I'm sure you see what I mean, babe."
"No, Sharla, I don't," Anna whispered under her breath. And as she made her way downstairs to catch the bus, she felt like crying again.
She hoped Chuck would let her vent and find a way to comfort her. Chuck adored her body, after all, from the very first time he'd seen it in that swimming pool. The memory of how she'd teased him in the pool, cornered him in the elevator and invited him to "frolic in the jungle" (as she had put it, that time and many since then) made her smile through her outrage now. If she wanted that kind of TLC, she knew, it was just a matter of telling him what Sharla had written. Anna didn't really want to go through it again, but she knew herself well enough to know she'd never be able to hide it from Chuck.
To her delight, there was no need to explain anything. Anna opened the apartment door to find the dining area bathed in candlelight, and Chuck standing by the table in her favorite of his button-down shirts. "Thought you might need a pick-me-up tonight," he explained. "Who cares what Sharla thinks, really?"
"How'd you know?" Anna threw herself into his arms.
"I read her blog too now and then," Chuck reminded her. "Couldn't believe what she said this morning, and of course I knew it was you she'd seen. I know how much you love putting the other women at ease there."
"I know!" Anna sighed. "How could she be so callous about someone who was obviously so comfortable in her own skin?!"
"And in her own vagina hair," Chuck laughed.
"Oh my God, you saw that! I'm sorry I used that, I realized a second too late --"
"It's fine, Anna! I thought it was adorable."
"She didn't," Anna grumbled.
"I know, I saw that," Chuck said. "I guess we can forget about that encounter you were hoping for with her, huh?"
"Oh my God, Chuck, I'm really glad you're so openminded about that. But yeah, I think that's one name we can cross off our list." Anna had been floating the idea of a threesome with another woman almost from the day she and Chuck had become a couple. He'd always been all for it, but it had never happened.
