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[Thanks to @Gengar for providing information.]
Polycystic ovary syndrome is a condition that affects many women that causes them to produce higher-than-normal amounts of male hormones. It has a myriad of symptoms that includes weight gain, irregular periods, and unordinary and excessive hair growth such as beards. While most women decide to take the coward's way out and seek treatment for their PCOS, or just even shave the weird excess hair, there is a (growing) group of women that have embraced their facial hair—some to the point of it being the only interesting thing about them.
Notable Examples:
Harnaam Kaur - Instagram
Harnaam Kaur (instagram/archive) is a British Sikh body-positive activist. In addition to having her entire identity revolve around the fact she can grow a wicked beard, she has also taken the liberty to get her face tattooed on herself (photo/archive). According to her Wikipedia article (archive), she has stated that she has named her beard Sundri, which means beauty or beautiful, and refers to her beard as a “she".
Because she couldn’t remove her hair, her depression over her appearance led her to begin self-harming, and eventually Kaur considered suicide.
“One day I decided to actually go ahead with ending my life,” she says. “I had the pills there ready.” (Article/Archive)
Little Bear Schwarz - Instagram/Twitter/YouTube/Patreon
“Yes, I have a beard due to my Polycystic [Ovarian] Syndrome,” Schwarz tells Health. “But it’s not in and of itself deleterious to my health, nor is it a ‘mistake,’ a ‘joke,’ a ‘tragedy’ or a subversion TO or a detraction FROM my womanhood. On the contrary it is beautiful, natural, and the crowning glory OF my womanhood.”
I started developing facial hair when I was around 14 or 15, with it being necessary to shave daily by 16. Because so many doctors at that time didn't have a proper understanding of how to diagnose it, it wasn't until I was almost 32 — nine months after letting my beard grow — that I finally found a doctor who was able to clearly see I have polycystic ovary syndrome.
I shaved my face, neck, and chest in the shower so I wouldn't have to watch myself do it.
From ages 16 to 31, I shaved my face, neck, and chest in the shower every day so that I wouldn't have to watch myself do it. The shame was that internalized. In my 20s, I started reading more about feminism and body autonomy, but I still was afraid of growing my hair. On a practical level, who would hire me? Who would date me? How could I safely navigate the world as a bearded woman? (Article/Archive)
Alma Torres - Instagram
I noticed I had facial hair at a young age, maybe around nine or 10, but it never bothered me because I was focused on being a kid. I grow facial hair due to polycystic ovary syndrome. I removed my sideburns, which were really thick and dark, for my eighth-grade prom. In 2009, when I was working with children, I decided to bleach my mustache. That didn't work, so by the end of the summer, I started to shave instead. (Article/Archive)
Miranda Nodine - Instagram
I started developing facial hair and body hair when I was in middle school. I felt confused because as a child growing up, you really only see facial hair on men. I grow facial hair and body hair because of hirsutism, which in my case is caused by PCOS. There's much more about that condition that causes me to feel like my body is waging a war against me. I'm exhausted all the time and I have extremely irregular or nonexistent periods, just to name a few things.
I still remove my hair most of the time, but it's not as crucial as it used to be. Shaving is not an everyday thing right now, but I'm extremely open and proud of my stubble just the way it is. (Article/Archive)
Rose Geil - Instagram
‘Growing my beard was an incredible experience. It was very difficult, daily emotionally and physically in the beginning because it was very uncomfortable, itchy and crawly. I had to fight the urge to shave.’
‘I definitely feel womanly, sexy and sensuous. I feel more feminine and it has very little to do with my appearance; it comes from my attitude and giving myself the freedom to be who I am. (Article/Archive)
Adriana Javier - Instagram
I was a young, fat woman who hadn't come out as queer yet, who was trying to date, and I was really insecure about the facial hair and my acne and my fatness. I ended up going to my doctor and told her about the hair and she mentioned that it could be PCOS.
I came to embrace it and flaunt it more after I came out as queer just under a year ago. Prior to coming out, I was always concerned about presenting as femininely as possible and with being attractive to cisgender heterosexual men. Coming out has upended my ideas about gender presentation; while I use she/her pronouns and am a cis woman, I actively shun the idea that gender is binary and that I have to perform femininity in a particular way. I am a woman, I have a beard, and that is just fucking fine. (Article/Archive)
Nova Galaxia - Instagram/YouTube
Jump forward two and a half months, and here I am, fully-bearded, at least two inches of growth. Hair all over my chest, breasts, and stomach. I went from living a daily nightmare to being incredibly in love with my hair in just that short amount of time. I no longer recoil in fear when my partner reaches out to touch my cheek. My confidence has spiked, and with it came some much needed self love. There is still a major problem, though.
I went public from the first day. I posted daily photos of the growth, made videos, shared my story everywhere. I gained attention rather quickly. (Article/Archive)
Further Reading:
https://www.health.com/beauty/women-embracing-bears-body-hair-pcos
https://www.allure.com/story/women-with-pcos-facial-hair-beard-interviews
Where to find more of these beauties:
Polycystic ovary syndrome is a condition that affects many women that causes them to produce higher-than-normal amounts of male hormones. It has a myriad of symptoms that includes weight gain, irregular periods, and unordinary and excessive hair growth such as beards. While most women decide to take the coward's way out and seek treatment for their PCOS, or just even shave the weird excess hair, there is a (growing) group of women that have embraced their facial hair—some to the point of it being the only interesting thing about them.
Notable Examples:
Harnaam Kaur - Instagram
Harnaam Kaur (instagram/archive) is a British Sikh body-positive activist. In addition to having her entire identity revolve around the fact she can grow a wicked beard, she has also taken the liberty to get her face tattooed on herself (photo/archive). According to her Wikipedia article (archive), she has stated that she has named her beard Sundri, which means beauty or beautiful, and refers to her beard as a “she".
Because she couldn’t remove her hair, her depression over her appearance led her to begin self-harming, and eventually Kaur considered suicide.
“One day I decided to actually go ahead with ending my life,” she says. “I had the pills there ready.” (Article/Archive)
Little Bear Schwarz - Instagram/Twitter/YouTube/Patreon
“Yes, I have a beard due to my Polycystic [Ovarian] Syndrome,” Schwarz tells Health. “But it’s not in and of itself deleterious to my health, nor is it a ‘mistake,’ a ‘joke,’ a ‘tragedy’ or a subversion TO or a detraction FROM my womanhood. On the contrary it is beautiful, natural, and the crowning glory OF my womanhood.”
I started developing facial hair when I was around 14 or 15, with it being necessary to shave daily by 16. Because so many doctors at that time didn't have a proper understanding of how to diagnose it, it wasn't until I was almost 32 — nine months after letting my beard grow — that I finally found a doctor who was able to clearly see I have polycystic ovary syndrome.
I shaved my face, neck, and chest in the shower so I wouldn't have to watch myself do it.
From ages 16 to 31, I shaved my face, neck, and chest in the shower every day so that I wouldn't have to watch myself do it. The shame was that internalized. In my 20s, I started reading more about feminism and body autonomy, but I still was afraid of growing my hair. On a practical level, who would hire me? Who would date me? How could I safely navigate the world as a bearded woman? (Article/Archive)
Alma Torres - Instagram
I noticed I had facial hair at a young age, maybe around nine or 10, but it never bothered me because I was focused on being a kid. I grow facial hair due to polycystic ovary syndrome. I removed my sideburns, which were really thick and dark, for my eighth-grade prom. In 2009, when I was working with children, I decided to bleach my mustache. That didn't work, so by the end of the summer, I started to shave instead. (Article/Archive)
Miranda Nodine - Instagram
I started developing facial hair and body hair when I was in middle school. I felt confused because as a child growing up, you really only see facial hair on men. I grow facial hair and body hair because of hirsutism, which in my case is caused by PCOS. There's much more about that condition that causes me to feel like my body is waging a war against me. I'm exhausted all the time and I have extremely irregular or nonexistent periods, just to name a few things.
I still remove my hair most of the time, but it's not as crucial as it used to be. Shaving is not an everyday thing right now, but I'm extremely open and proud of my stubble just the way it is. (Article/Archive)
Rose Geil - Instagram
‘Growing my beard was an incredible experience. It was very difficult, daily emotionally and physically in the beginning because it was very uncomfortable, itchy and crawly. I had to fight the urge to shave.’
‘I definitely feel womanly, sexy and sensuous. I feel more feminine and it has very little to do with my appearance; it comes from my attitude and giving myself the freedom to be who I am. (Article/Archive)
Adriana Javier - Instagram
I was a young, fat woman who hadn't come out as queer yet, who was trying to date, and I was really insecure about the facial hair and my acne and my fatness. I ended up going to my doctor and told her about the hair and she mentioned that it could be PCOS.
I came to embrace it and flaunt it more after I came out as queer just under a year ago. Prior to coming out, I was always concerned about presenting as femininely as possible and with being attractive to cisgender heterosexual men. Coming out has upended my ideas about gender presentation; while I use she/her pronouns and am a cis woman, I actively shun the idea that gender is binary and that I have to perform femininity in a particular way. I am a woman, I have a beard, and that is just fucking fine. (Article/Archive)
Nova Galaxia - Instagram/YouTube
Jump forward two and a half months, and here I am, fully-bearded, at least two inches of growth. Hair all over my chest, breasts, and stomach. I went from living a daily nightmare to being incredibly in love with my hair in just that short amount of time. I no longer recoil in fear when my partner reaches out to touch my cheek. My confidence has spiked, and with it came some much needed self love. There is still a major problem, though.
I went public from the first day. I posted daily photos of the growth, made videos, shared my story everywhere. I gained attention rather quickly. (Article/Archive)
Further Reading:
https://www.health.com/beauty/women-embracing-bears-body-hair-pcos
https://www.allure.com/story/women-with-pcos-facial-hair-beard-interviews
Where to find more of these beauties:
https://kiwifarms.net/threads/the-hirsute-community-bearded-ladies.53614/page-3#post-4354522
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