Hey there! I’m Ariella, an IBS-ridden illustrator living in NYC. I’m here to chat about and celebrate being a woman -- body hair, bodily functions (disclaimer: WOMEN POOP -- if you are pooping pebbles, I've got some tips ahead), period globs and all.
As a fifteen year old, I wore spanx under my jeans to school (truly the most terrible combination), gobbled gas-x pills and spent hours bleaching my dark arm hair -- contorting my body to reach each and every patch. Eleven years later, my confidence is certainly not iron-clad, but I have grown to accept those parts of myself I grew up trying to hide. I still wax my cute lil’ bar mitzvah boy mustache, but I talk about it and it feels great.
At the risk of being a complete cliché, my comfort in talking all things body grew from a close group of female friends I met at camp. Looking back, it’s pretty special that even at the peak catty girl ages of 12-16, we were somehow never competitive with each other -- on my end, I attribute that to my deep fear of flirting and highly active sweat glands. No boys allowed.
I fell in love with these women (The Yentas as we call ourselves) 15 years ago and am immensely lucky to be living in the same city as them now. They keep me sane. Mortifying period stories become legends (the tale of the crowning tampon coming soon), decisions to break up with the perfectly nice guy/girl who just doesn’t do it for us -- or the total butthead who does -- is lauded as brave, and bodily questions are never judged. At this point, the more vile and bizarre the better.
At the end of the day, some of us are tall, some of us are round, some nipples are large, and most butts are hairy. We all fart, we all poop, once a month we bleed, and we are all beautiful for it.
I'm inviting you into this conversation. To share, to laugh, and to connect on the gross/sticky/funny/mysterious/HUMAN parts of being a woman.