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.