Yesterday, I did something crazy. Something I didn’t believe I’d ever do again.
Or maybe you could say I didn’t do something crazy.
Yesterday, I woke up to the local country music station (and let me tell you, if I have to hear that woman wondering why he doesn’t take her downtown anymore one more time, I’m going back to the classic rock station and let AC/DC wake me up instead). I hit snooze a time or two, then finally got out of bed, went to the washroom, then got some tea with milk and sugar. I shuffled back upstairs to bed, turned on the local news, took my Spiro with my tea and sewed up the hem of a suit I’m making. Since my plans for the day involved shopping with my mom and my step-sister, when I heard them moving I washed my face, brushed my usual SPF 30 foundation and concealer over my face, swiped some deodorant under my arms and got dressed. Then we went out.
What was different? I didn’t shave. And you know what? The act of washing my face without digging out the razor felt just plain wrong. It took a lot of concentration to stop myself. But my chin still felt smooth from the morning before, though the hair follicles looked more prominent in the mirror. Why would I put my face through shaving if I didn’t have to? And since we were only going out shopping and would be amongst total strangers, I figured this would be a good day to try it.
And while I was out, when I remembered I hadn’t shaved that morning, it wasn’t with a surge of embarrassment or worry. It was with a sense of thrill. 'Dude, I didn't shave this morning!' I kept telling myself like it was a dirty little secret. 'Maybe I'll only have to shave every other day, now...'
By afternoon, I could brush the back of my hand under my chin and feel a prickle, but no worse than it felt immediately after shaving sometimes when my skin was really dry or in the phase after laser but before the hair starts shedding. And by the time I went to bed, the make-up was still well in place, but I was definitely more prickly--but no worse than the five o’clock shadow I used to get before medications began to work. I think a thing to remember is that a lot of the hairs left on my chin are coarse, but blond, and not as easily noticeable. Even if I did let them poke out of the skin a little, would anyone be able to tell at a casual glance?
It was the kind of morning I’ve dreamed of having for so long. And you know what? It wasn’t that different from any other morning up until now. That could be because first the medication, and now the laser, have reduced my facial hair to a point where shaving and make-up is much less likely to be a tearful battle in front of the mirror anyway. But really, I didn’t do anything else different. But I sure felt excited.
July 2, 2013
June 8, 2013
Addendum to Yesterday's Post
One thing I forgot to mention in the video of my fourth laser hair removal appointment is that on my way out of the
medical building, I ran into a long-time family friend whom I haven't seen in a long while. Someone who's known me
since I came into the world. She was on her way in for an appointment so we couldn't talk
long, but she asked me what I was doing there.
"I'm getting laser hair removal," I said quite frankly, surprising myself again. Who is this person who has taken over my body and wants to tell the world?
She was interested, not shocked or turned off. "Really? I thought of getting a No-No," she said.
When we're hirsute, I guess we forget that most women have at least some issue with a little errant body hair somewhere, not to mention the kind that is normal and expected for all women to have. And even if they don't experience the unique kind of emotional and physical pain of growing a beard or a luxuriant patch of chest hair, most at least are far from horrified by those of us who do experience it.
Something else she said was that she had a friend who had owned and run an electrolysis clinic for many years, and being ready to retire, wanted to hand it over to her. I was way too excited by this, even knowing that she had turned down the offer. A part of me would really like to work somewhere where I could meet other hirsute women all that time and hear about their lives. I fantasize about that sometimes. But I know I would not be good for business, because I could never in good conscience treat someone who had not received a proper diagnosis from a specialist first. Still, it's fun to dream.
Let's see... I was gone for a month so what else is new? I've committed to camping again this year. I wonder if the experience will be much improved by the laser treatments I've been having?
"I'm getting laser hair removal," I said quite frankly, surprising myself again. Who is this person who has taken over my body and wants to tell the world?
She was interested, not shocked or turned off. "Really? I thought of getting a No-No," she said.
When we're hirsute, I guess we forget that most women have at least some issue with a little errant body hair somewhere, not to mention the kind that is normal and expected for all women to have. And even if they don't experience the unique kind of emotional and physical pain of growing a beard or a luxuriant patch of chest hair, most at least are far from horrified by those of us who do experience it.
Something else she said was that she had a friend who had owned and run an electrolysis clinic for many years, and being ready to retire, wanted to hand it over to her. I was way too excited by this, even knowing that she had turned down the offer. A part of me would really like to work somewhere where I could meet other hirsute women all that time and hear about their lives. I fantasize about that sometimes. But I know I would not be good for business, because I could never in good conscience treat someone who had not received a proper diagnosis from a specialist first. Still, it's fun to dream.
Let's see... I was gone for a month so what else is new? I've committed to camping again this year. I wonder if the experience will be much improved by the laser treatments I've been having?
June 7, 2013
Vlog: Fourth Treatment
I apologize for the month-long absence. I have been really sick. And I mean, three doctor's visits and three different prescriptions kind of sick. A kind of sick I haven't been since I was a child. I managed to kick H1N1 in a week without medical help, so this has been a real low point in my year. But I'm better now, and well enough to be able to lie still for the laser.
After my fourth laser hair removal treatment, I asked the technician if there would be a point where we would call it; that my chin would be as good as the laser could ever make it. And she basically told me that that point was now, and it was time to come in twice a year for touch-ups. She has said to me more than once now that the chin is a very "hormonal" area, and if she's seen in her many years of experience that the chin is particularly difficult to laser "pew-pew" into submission, it's time for me to accept that. The good news is, she expects that touch-ups will only be needed on my chin, so I'll be looking at around $50 a touch-up instead of the full amount.
So what now? I don't know.
Being sick, I had ample time to view my face with almost a week's worth of growth. I show the pictures in the video but will post them here as well:
Really, this is still an enormous improvement over my chin in it's natural state, or even as it has been with medication. But look at all that coarse blond hair that the laser won't ever be able to kill.
I ramble on in this video about how my goal of eradicating the dark hair was really just me deceiving myself, and that really in my heart of hearts I want to get rid of it all. As much as I would tell myself that I could live with noticeable hair if it was blond, to be perfectly honest, I don't want to have to deal with that either. I want perfection. Who doesn't? Most of us are struggling to achieve an ideal set before us by our culture. I want my pre-pubescent hairless chin back.
I mention some realistic next steps in the video, but I'm not sure which one I want to take yet.
After my fourth laser hair removal treatment, I asked the technician if there would be a point where we would call it; that my chin would be as good as the laser could ever make it. And she basically told me that that point was now, and it was time to come in twice a year for touch-ups. She has said to me more than once now that the chin is a very "hormonal" area, and if she's seen in her many years of experience that the chin is particularly difficult to laser "pew-pew" into submission, it's time for me to accept that. The good news is, she expects that touch-ups will only be needed on my chin, so I'll be looking at around $50 a touch-up instead of the full amount.
So what now? I don't know.
Being sick, I had ample time to view my face with almost a week's worth of growth. I show the pictures in the video but will post them here as well:
Really, this is still an enormous improvement over my chin in it's natural state, or even as it has been with medication. But look at all that coarse blond hair that the laser won't ever be able to kill.
I ramble on in this video about how my goal of eradicating the dark hair was really just me deceiving myself, and that really in my heart of hearts I want to get rid of it all. As much as I would tell myself that I could live with noticeable hair if it was blond, to be perfectly honest, I don't want to have to deal with that either. I want perfection. Who doesn't? Most of us are struggling to achieve an ideal set before us by our culture. I want my pre-pubescent hairless chin back.
I mention some realistic next steps in the video, but I'm not sure which one I want to take yet.
April 30, 2013
I Told My Sister
After I made the video about my third treatment, something surprising happened. I was in the kitchen with my step-sister, cleaning up for the night, when a voice trailed in from the laundry room. I couldn’t make out a word of it, and called out, “Pardon?” But my step-sister had heard it clearly and repeated what had been said to me.
Feeling a little abashed, I laughed my partial deafness off as part of my burgeoning sinus infection, and to support the argument, I proceeded to tell my step-sister how I’d had to get the laser technician to repeat almost everything she said to me that afternoon as well.
“Why were you seeing a laser technician?” she asked. And then I realized what I’d done.
“Laser hair removal,” I said, as lightly as I could manage. “That’s why my face was so red when I came in.” Instead of staying in my room after I made the video, I’d taken my ice pack downstairs to the couch and plunked myself down with the family. I never do that.
“I didn’t even notice,” she said. And we haven’t talked about it since.
Somehow, starting laser hair removal again has caused me to let my guard down. I told a coworker I was going to the consultation because I was terribly nervous, I told my cousin about my problems with body hair when she had her wisdom teeth out the same day as one of my treatments.
And now I’ve told my step-sister, someone I’ve lived with for almost nine years now without telling. I did expect her to know that I’m hirsute, though. I had to bleach my face in front of her one day when we were traveling and I couldn’t keep the bathroom to myself, and told her it was just cream. She’s shared a home bathroom with me for ages and has seen all the weird shaving apparatus I have, and surely she’s noticed it all gets wet in the morning when I say I’m going to “wash my face.” And as I’ve started to get more accepting of my hair, I’ve ventured outside my room when I’ve taken shaving breaks and even gone so far as to make dinner for everyone with a day or two of shadow on my chin and jaw. But apparently she never looked close enough. I think very few people actually do.
But why is it when we start to do something about our hirsutism we feel better talking about it? I’ve noticed that’s often when women start their blogs or make their videos. Somehow, knowing we’re getting command over our situation, or even that our situation might eventually be gone (or reduced significantly), gives us bizarre amounts of courage. I figured I had a pretty good handle on acceptance of myself, but now that laser has been reducing my issue, I’m out of control! My secret’s slipping out all over the place. And not a backlash to be seen.
We all appreciate knowing about the challenges of those we’re close to, right? It has enriched my love and respect of others to learn about their chronic pain, traumatic memories, anxiety and depression, and more. When we see them going about their days as if nothing’s wrong, it is very inspiring. As Peter S Beagle (author of The Last Unicorn) says, “Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed.” Our struggles, even if minor in comparison, might be just the thing to encourage someone else out of bed in the morning. So many people are like that for me. It's important to share, if and when we can.
Feeling a little abashed, I laughed my partial deafness off as part of my burgeoning sinus infection, and to support the argument, I proceeded to tell my step-sister how I’d had to get the laser technician to repeat almost everything she said to me that afternoon as well.
“Why were you seeing a laser technician?” she asked. And then I realized what I’d done.
“Laser hair removal,” I said, as lightly as I could manage. “That’s why my face was so red when I came in.” Instead of staying in my room after I made the video, I’d taken my ice pack downstairs to the couch and plunked myself down with the family. I never do that.
“I didn’t even notice,” she said. And we haven’t talked about it since.
Somehow, starting laser hair removal again has caused me to let my guard down. I told a coworker I was going to the consultation because I was terribly nervous, I told my cousin about my problems with body hair when she had her wisdom teeth out the same day as one of my treatments.
And now I’ve told my step-sister, someone I’ve lived with for almost nine years now without telling. I did expect her to know that I’m hirsute, though. I had to bleach my face in front of her one day when we were traveling and I couldn’t keep the bathroom to myself, and told her it was just cream. She’s shared a home bathroom with me for ages and has seen all the weird shaving apparatus I have, and surely she’s noticed it all gets wet in the morning when I say I’m going to “wash my face.” And as I’ve started to get more accepting of my hair, I’ve ventured outside my room when I’ve taken shaving breaks and even gone so far as to make dinner for everyone with a day or two of shadow on my chin and jaw. But apparently she never looked close enough. I think very few people actually do.
But why is it when we start to do something about our hirsutism we feel better talking about it? I’ve noticed that’s often when women start their blogs or make their videos. Somehow, knowing we’re getting command over our situation, or even that our situation might eventually be gone (or reduced significantly), gives us bizarre amounts of courage. I figured I had a pretty good handle on acceptance of myself, but now that laser has been reducing my issue, I’m out of control! My secret’s slipping out all over the place. And not a backlash to be seen.
We all appreciate knowing about the challenges of those we’re close to, right? It has enriched my love and respect of others to learn about their chronic pain, traumatic memories, anxiety and depression, and more. When we see them going about their days as if nothing’s wrong, it is very inspiring. As Peter S Beagle (author of The Last Unicorn) says, “Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed.” Our struggles, even if minor in comparison, might be just the thing to encourage someone else out of bed in the morning. So many people are like that for me. It's important to share, if and when we can.
April 24, 2013
Video: How to Hide Facial Hair
If you haven't seen this video via my tumblr yet, I thought I would share it here as well. It has some great tips for hiding facial hair--a couple of them I don't think would work for me, but who knows, they might work for you! Plus she's really sweet; you'll want to hug her!
And don't forget, the deadline for submissions to the Armpits 4 August zine closes next Tuesday, April 30th! Are you submitting something?
And don't forget, the deadline for submissions to the Armpits 4 August zine closes next Tuesday, April 30th! Are you submitting something?
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