Hey, hi, hello.
I’m not exactly sure where to start. I’ve never talked to anyone about this before. I never thought I would, to be honest.
I’m so relieved to have found this site. I’m still hesistant about sharing… but I need to do something. I’m hairy. Much hairier than any female should be. Though my face doesn’t give it away.
It’s other places. The rest of my body.
And I have no idea what to do.
You see, I thought I could deal with it.
Shave my legs, arms, and Nair everything else if a doctor’s appointment was necessary. I feel much cleaner if I have my arms and legs shaved. I don’t feel so replulsive.
I figured I’d stick with that, you know, and accept
the fact that I’d just have to spend my life alone. And I was okay with it.
But now there’s a boy. Well, he’s been around for awhile, actually. Two years. This sounds so silly to you all, I’m sure. But we met online. We’ve been extremely good friends. We’ve always had feelings for eachother, but it was never the right time. Now seems to be. We decided to try the whole long-distance thing. He lives in Australia, and I’m going to see him for my 18th. I can’t wait, honestly. I’m so happy things are looking this well for us.
But my hair. My stupid fucking hair is holding me back. )=
I care about him so much, and he returns those feelings. And I’m so, so lucky to have him in my life. But right now I feel like a terrible person. I feel like I’mm deceiving him-- he doesn’t know ‘hairy’ me. You know? I feel like he deserves so much better than that. I’m a freak.
And I can’t even tell him. I’ll never tell anyone.
It’s too humiliating. No one knows,
and I don’t want them to. )=
I don’t know what to do.
I hate being so disgusting.
I hate not being able to wear tank tops -whenever- I want.
I hate not being able to go into the same dressing room
with my mom or my friends because I know what’s underneath my clothes. I hate not being able to wear a swimsuit.
I feel like this has pushed me away from everyone and everything,
and all I have is my thoughts. And my thoughts get so weird,
so awkward, so… dlkfjldkjflskjf. I just want to feel, -be-, somewhat normal.
When I’m talking to him, he makes things alright, he makes things great. He makes me feel good, normal. He drives my heart crazy, but still manages to keep me sane, and I just don’t want to have to let that go. Life is so dull without him around. With him it’s a song… a song that you can’t help but smile and sing along with, no matter how many times you’ve heard it before. Do you know what I mean? I don’t want to give that up.
But if I don’t get rid of this problem, I think I’m going to have to. )=
I don’t understand why God did this to me.
I mean, jeeze. I already have absolutely no boobs,
and a not-so-hot body, and a blah face.
It could be worse, I know.
But this really bites.
=(
Fudge.