Hairy, Sweaty Me
- Sharie Weakley
- Aug 24
- 5 min read
Those of you who know me personally know that I have great hair. I’m not bragging; it just is. I always knew the color was good; it was strawberry blond ringlets as a child, then golden blond, then dark blond with copper highlights. Now it’s brownish and going grey, but my hairdresser does a great job with hair dye. She’s very good.
My hair is also very thick. I didn’t really appreciate it until the past ten years or so. Hairdressers say that not only do I have a lot of hairs on my head, but each one is thicker than normal and it all grows quickly. If I just let it dry, it has gobs of curls including spirals. If I blow dry it, I have waves and curls that stay and get better for up to a weak, while the hair still looks freshly washed. My friends admire it, men love it (an evolutionary advantage), and I’ve had strangers in public compliment me on it.
Sadly, I also have more facial hair than I would prefer. When you have lots of hair, it’s not confined to the top of your head. I have to wax and/or shave my neck; wax, trim and pluck my chin; pluck and trim my mustache; trim my lower cheek “peach fuzz” and sideburns; and I’ve plucked my eyebrows to half of what they are naturally in order to avoid looking like Santa Claus (plus I trim them because they are long and wiry). Luckily, it’s all blond (now white). But in all of this, it was worth it to have fabulous hair on my head.
My mother, her father and on back: all good hair. Both my daughters have thick hair, and one wears it down past her waist. My husband, incidentally, has not balded at all. We are the good-hair-family.
Recently, I was reading the paper online when I should have been going to bed, and came across the article, Hair Kept Our Ancestors’ Brains Cool—and Gave Them an Evolutionary Advantage. It was so validating. Apparently, we are the only species that has basically hairless bodies and full, long hair on our heads. Research indicates that when early man began walking upright, our heads were vulnerable to the heat. We developed thick, tightly curled, dark hair to insulate our heads. It was only after this insulation that our brains were able to grow larger, and gain greater intelligence, due to cooler brains. As early man headed north, the insulation wasn’t as critical and that’s when we diversified to having so many hair colors and textures.
For decades I have known that a) I have great hair, b) God must’ve given me good hair because he knew I’d have trouble with my body (you know I struggle with weight), and c) I come from a long line of hairy, sweaty people.
Hairy and sweaty: My dad used to sweat profusely; he passed in 2019. When he and a boyfriend would move me out of college apartments, the boyfriend would always be worried: “Is your dad okay? He looks like he’s going to have a heart attack!” He would have constant drips of sweat running off his nose and his face would be bright red. In fact, my dad was built like a horse and could outlast any of them.
I also tend to sweat profusely. With even light exertion, I am mopping my brow, and often apply clinical strength deodorant twice a day. I hate the heat. I’ve always thought it meant my body has a highly efficient HVAC system to keep me cool. Who knows?
Anyway, I’ve always assumed that being hairy and sweaty was some sort of evolutionary advantage, but never had any proof. Until now. I thought the thick hair was an advantage to keep me warm rather than cool; I now live in Connecticut (grew up in Huntington Beach, California) and never need to wear a hat in winter; I am plenty warm without it. I descend from English, Norwegian and German stock, and figured it has something to do with that.
But, per the article, I am now thrilled to find out that it kept me, and my brain, cool; it insulates me from both the African sun and arctic north. I also like to think that there is still a correlation with thick curly hair, brain cooling, and intelligence. But I’ll wait for any correlation on my own intelligence, or lack thereof.
One last anecdote. My daughter has had chronic migraine for over a decade, and she sees a doctor/professor at a major university for treatment. He is wonderful and has been a godsend. However, back at least six or eight years ago, during an appointment, I took a clip out of my hair and scratched my head. He said, “Hair headache?” I replied in the affirmative. He then mumbled under his breath, “I don’t understand why women don’t just cut it off.”
My daughter and I glanced at each other and rolled our eyes. Once we were out of the office, we immediately looked at each other and said, “Obviously he knows nothing about women. How can he possibly be married?” I wish I had responded to him in the moment. If he ever says it again, here’s how I’ll respond:
Historically (meaning thousands of years), men marry for beauty and women marry for security. Men want a beautiful woman because it indicates health and healthy progeny, and women need the security of a heroic man for when they are carrying said progeny and are vulnerable, including due to our relative lack of strength; we need food and a roof over our head and for our children. Thus, in our heart of hearts, every man wants to be a hero and every woman wants to be beautiful – it’s how we carry on the species. It’s in our DNA and estrogen and testosterone, and we’re never going to change it. Thus, don’t mess with women’s hair. Hair is beauty, it’s femininity, it’s sexuality, and it’s power. A woman is no more going to cut off her hair due to a little hair-headache, than a man would snip off his balls due to a little jock itch. It’s just not going to happen. It goes to the heart of who we are. (Now I realize one grows back and the other doesn’t, but I’ve made my point.)
(Please note that my above explanation is from an anthropological view. I fully realize modernity has altered much of what I said. Please don’t hate me.)
If nothing else, I hope my hairy face and sweat confessions made you feel better about your own face and sweat glands. We all sweat and have whiskers (I think), and nobody talks about it in public even though it’s perfectly normal. I am here to affirm that we are all beautiful, despite our over-active sweat glands and renegade hair growth!
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