Wax on; Wax Off; Cuz I got dark hair and a lil peach fuzz.
I have waxed my upper lip for as long as I can remember. Sally Hanson “Cream removal” has gone with me from house to house to apartment to apartment over the years (still have the same container too!) and I’ve always locked myself away in a bathroom to sheepishly wax off those little fuzzies above my lip, convinced that I was “gross” for having it.
Body Dysmorphic Disorder has a way of mistaking vanity and self-loathing. As a teen, my “Chewbacca hairiness” gave me immense anxiety. I used to shave my arms, my legs, my nether regions bare- no matter the razor burns or dry skin it left. When I was diagnosed with PCOS in 2012, I learned that the reason for my little fuzzies on my lip and sides of my face were a product of having twice the testosterone a normal woman possesses.
I suppose when I first learned this, I was relieved to have an answer as to why I was cursed with unwanted hair. But then again, it also just gave me more of a reason to obsess over ever unplucked stray between my eyebrows and every hint of peach fuzz on the side of my face.
The truth is I’ve wasted so much time, anxiety, and money over the years trying to rectify my BDD; trying to convince my mom I needed surgery for my ears (that I later grew into), shaving my arms (that I later found unnatural), checking and re-checking my chin for PCOS acne in all different lighting, buying countless concealer after concealer to spread over my face, picking at my chin till it scarred, running 15 miles a day to actively “fix” the portion of my thighs (upper thigh, inner part, surrounding a couple stretch marks) I don’t like, sitting at meetings with a coat over my legs so I don’t look down at my thighs, and hurting and obsessing and missing out on my life.
While I’ve come to terms with my PCOS symptoms as I age (waxing really ain’t that hard and I only have to do it once every 6 weeks or so. I was blessed with light, thin hairs while others aren’t) I’ve been struggling with the thighs, the skin I check 50-60x a day in the mirror with my eyes, with my hands, feeling and rotating the skin with my fingers to make sure it hasn’t “enlarged” –
The other night, frustrated with lack of presence in my life, I decided to just own this BDD shiz for a bloody moment to force myself to get out of my head and be honest with myself about how wasteful it is to live your live worried about imperfections- so I posted this pic to Instagram and Facebook, checked and RE-checked to make sure nobody was screeching at how hideous I was for doing it, and then I calmed down and let myself get out of my head.
I got love around me; support at my fingertips; and one life to stop wasting on the trivial, so whattup yall; I got some hair on my lip, and I wax it off and move on.