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From PRX's radio toopia. Welcome to the heart.

I'm your host, Caitlin Prest. And this is Bodies. A mini season about resistance.

This is the last episode of the mini season. Before the episode, we have the final installment of the saga of the hair. Here's Mitra.

I've been telling you little stories about what is the biggest conflict I have about my body. I'm obsessed with my body hair.

Over the years, I've experimented with how far I can push my comfort levels, most recently growing out my armpit hair.

I like it, but not all the time. Sometimes I get embarrassed. Sometimes I catch people glancing at it, maybe because it's too dark, too unruly, or just because it's there at all.

I've had employers say, I don't really care anything, but like for the customers.

Or students of mine ask, why on earth I would do this.

Over the winters, when my body is cloaked behind layers of clothes, I convince myself that I've made peace with it.

Then, as the snow thaws, again, I'm faced with myself, my true self.

The self that was picked on as a kid, or mistaken for a boy.

The self that remembers a girl in the seventh grade grabbing my arm, as I was putting my hair in a ponytail, saying, Jesus Mitra, you could have at least shaved your armpits.

I had shaved, in fact, earlier that day.

The self that would spend hours looking at my legs, inspecting every single pore, wishing it were thinner, and lighter, and just not there at all.

I envy the amandas and ashlies, the genophers, who have the luxury of letting it be, claiming it, reveling in it, owning it.

For me, my hair is far too grotesque.

...