It’s amazing how much of a difference facial hair can make in terms of the way we view someone’s physical appearance. It’s not just the presence of facial hair, but its quantity, quality, style, and maintenance that contribute to these perceptions. Different contexts and situations can change these perceptions in such a way that facial hair can be a funny joke, a rite of passage, an indication of socioeconomic status, a source of attraction or judgment, or a cause for exclusion.

Here’s what I mean:

A fake beard on a baby can make a cute holiday card. A middle school boy with the early stages of a mustache tows a fine line between machismo and “awkward/creepy.” A 16-year-old male with a full beard may pass for a 25-year-old, mature adult. A man in his 20s with long, unkempt, dirty facial hair may be assumed to be homeless, or perhaps an addict. A middle-aged man who shaves for the first time in a decade suddenly appears 10 years younger. And a woman with facial hair? Society scoffs at such an “unacceptable” feature on a woman.

With these views come expectations, of course. The mustachioed middle schooler gets taught how to shave. The full-bearded high school sophomore may find himself dating an upperclassman, or be asked by his peach-fuzzed peers to try to buy them things that they aren’t legally old enough to buy because they think he “looks old enough to get away with it.” An adult man is expected to maintain his beard so as not to look or “unprofessional.” And girls, not just adult women, are expected to tweeze, wax, shave, thread, laser, and remove all facial hair besides their eyebrows (and also remove parts of their eyebrows, too) by any means necessary.

Hand-in-hand with expectations may come privileges or repercussions— regardless of whether or not they are actually deserved or warranted. Facial hair might get a 16-year old into a rated R movie without parental supervision (because rated R movies are technically for ages 17 and up), or allow them to be served alcohol without presenting ID at a restaurant that doesn’t strictly enforce IDing its customers. Facial hair can go either way as a positive or negative on a date or on a job interview. If you’re a woman, facial hair really has no social “reward,” but it definitely may draw conspicuous and judgmental looks from passersby.

I'll be honest, before now I hadn't really considered just how much facial hair related to body image. To me, body image was always about weight, but as I thought more and more about it, my beard is always on the list of the things I pay attention to maintaining when it comes to my physical appearance. In fact, it's probably a lot easier for me to control than my weight has been. If I want a beard, I just don't shave for a few days. If it gets too long, I trim it. If I don't want it, I can shave it away in minutes.

Don't you wish maintaining weight was that easy?

It’s been nearly half my life now that I’ve been able to grow a full beard, and over those 15+ years, I've probably had facial hair more often than not. At first, I started growing it because I finally could and because I'd always wanted to be able to. I had a goatee on just my chin in high school which I'd often pull at subconsciously during class. It also is worth noting, though, that as an overweight teenager, a goatee did well to somewhat mask an extra layer or two of chin fat.

In college, my facial hair varied between the chin hair, a connected goatee-mustache combination, and a full-grown beard. Sometimes I'd let the beard get a little fuller out of laziness, but I always felt a beard made me look older or more mature and truthfully, I liked the way I looked with one better than without one.

I went 5 years, from my junior year in high school to my senior year in college, without being completely clean-shaven. It wasn't until I began student teaching that I saw my bare chin again after the athletic director informed me that he was “old school” liked his staff to be clean-cut. And so, because I wanted to please a potential future employer, I shaved completely clean.

I absolutely hated it.

I'm never good at guessing someone's age based on their appearance, but I've been mistaken for being younger than I am many times, and I can't help but assume my face has something to do with it. Let me tell you, clean-shaven me at age 21 looked very much like some of the 16, 17, and 18-year-old students I was responsible for teaching. As if my inexperience as a teacher wasn't apparent enough, looking like I was a new student and not a teacher made my job that much more difficult.

I'm not sure that those like the athletic director who preferred clean-shaven staff had even considered that my facial hair was a self-esteem booster and not any indication of my professionalism or lack thereof. Frankly, it hadn't occurred to me, either until then. But since then it's something that always bothered me, and I finally understand why.

As much as the way we look shouldn't matter, I'd be willing to bet that the vast majority of us feel that it does, at least to some extent. My In Our Own Skin writing teammates have talked about it before. Samantha reminded us of how easy it can be to allow ourselves to be defined by what we don't like about ourselves. Sam drew back to his childhood, acknowledging that when picking our superheroes, positive personality traits often take a back seat to physical characteristics like Clark Kent's spit curl. Ilse touched upon the way looking elderly brings the assumption of feebleness, outdated incompetence, and weakness, a caricature of sorts.

These things shouldn't matter, but somehow, it's hard not to feel like they do. When a teenager gets ridiculed for having a “creepy ‘stache,” it matters. When a college student is assumed to be unprofessional if not clean-cut, it matters. When an unkempt beard draws concerns of homelessness or addiction, it matters. When a woman gets shamed for not plucking, threading, shaving, waxing everything but the hair atop her head amidst everything else on the long, long list of other things she has to worry about being body shamed for…

It matters. Our words matter. Our labels matter. Our assumptions and our actions based on those assumptions matter.

As soon as my student teaching assignment ended, I grew back my beard, and I’ve had a beard in some capacity at varying lengths for the majority of the last decade. The only period of time I was more comfortable being clean-shaven was when I lost weight, which comes as little surprise to me. There was less of me to hide, less chubbiness under my chin and in my cheeks for me to pretend wasn't there.

People who see me somewhat regularly are used to my beard, and are often taken back on the rare occasions I shave my face completely clean. They’ll comment on how I “clean up nice.” Though I know this is usually meant as a compliment, it often bothers me. First, I don’t like the attention. Second, because of my insecurities, I hear what may be meant to be a compliment but feel an unspoken insult.

Telling me how nice I look specifically when I’m clean-shaven and not when I'm bearded actually makes me want to shave clean even less. It’s like gushing over how great someone looks when they've lost weight may on the surface be a compliment, it can also imply by omission that they looked like crap when they were heavier. That may not literally be what you're saying, but for a person with body image insecurities, this is what we tend to be inclined to read between the lines. And so, when I hear compliments on being clean-shaven, I notice the lack of compliments I received when I had a beard and I feel judged.

I struggle with my body image, and having facial hair is a way for me to cope with some of those issues. I like having a beard. When I maintain it the way I like it, I feel better about the way I look. It gives me confidence when I don't like some of the other things I see in the mirror, or in moments of self-doubt. But I'm still me, and who I am doesn't change based on whether or not I've taken a razor to the hair on my face.

Having or not having a mustache, beard, eyebrows, or any form of facial hair doesn't make a person any more or less intelligent, educated, or professional. It certainly doesn't make who they are as a person any different. Whether you like it or not is your prerogative, but to assume anything less of someone because of their facial hair isn't.

I'm sure that this isn't the last I'll write about hair. After all, I've only really focused on facial hair here. But for now, I'll say this: If you like having a lot of facial hair, grow it. If you like having that “just right” length (for me, 3-5 days after a clean shave), maintain it the way you like it. If you don't want it shave it. Period. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise or let it define you, or what you're capable of. Because just like having or not having facial hair— that's up to you.

How does your facial hair make you feel?
Share your comments at the bottom of the page.

Whatismyhealth © 2018