Enquire and admit to how I feel about it, that is…
First, I’d like to apologise (for all spelling and grammar-mistakes!) to anyone who might feel offended by my blunt writing here, and also I’d like to mention that I have seen and noted the videos on being a good electrolysis client, and I completely respect and agree with the please no whining at sessions part.
I hope it’s okay for me to get that over with here.
I know how irrational this could sound, but I really feel I must have done something terribly wrong, something horrible, inhumane in some former life to be dealt a losing hand like this body and face of mine. I’m covered in fuzz. Black, dense peach fuzz. COVERED.
I feel ashamed. I feel there is no point to going outdoors and greet the majestic sun at all. It is embarrasing when I have to enter my pin-code to pay at the mall, in case someone sees my hand. And I refuse to let anyone near.
On top, I am from an eastern country - (black hair but pale skin) but I live in a Scandinavian country where there are very few foreigners, especially in my school where I was the only one not native and either blond, beige or red.
Once, 2 years ago, a boy asked me - ‘are you a girl or a boy?’ I guess on top of the fuzz, my personality, my face, my overall apperance and vibe must seem androgynous. But who wouldn’t be when treated like it? Really, truly - inside I’m as pink and rosy as the lightest, fluffiest, shiniest, starriest flower fairy, I ache to feel feminine - as I do in my dreams… But this is a material world, and the troll that greets me in the mirror says - *fairy dust and powder rose coloured lace, pearls, silk and lilacs? Think again! HAHAHAHA!.."
What does it mean that I, specifically have to be this way?? That I am primitive? Arrogant? Masculine? More a monkey and a goat?
The funny thing is, when I see other people in my situation, I NEVER think that. It’s just me.
Anyway. This and some family issues have had psychosomatic effects from debilitating anxiety and muscle tension which has destorted and misaligned my body to the point where that is as big a problem as the fuzz itself. Most days I can’t get up straight if I want to avoid panick attacks, joint cracks and blackouts, so I lay down and try to remind my self that I have a body that needs me to let it breathe. It seems my mind tries to detach my identification from my trauma-enduced body overall. (I hope this makes sense, English is not my native language - the feeling is somewhat close to the sensations that describe effects of depersonalisation)
So, I wonder if it’s all in my head. Although I was bullied because of it - as many or most here on this site can probably relate to. Maybe I should go all natural and let mother nature do her job and worry about bigger things in life? Maybe I am just selfish wanting to be ‘normal’; shallow because it’s only a skin deep problem? Because it’s society’s toll on me thinking I should look the same as everyone else and in a particular way, that is - smooth and hairless? Maybe I’m just thick enough to buy into that notion so much and enough so that I let it ruine my life? Maybe I AM normal and maybe, just maybe - I didn’t do anything wrong to “deserve” this?
Maybe I’m a silly girl whining about something that really doesn’t matter on the long run.
Or does it?
None of my boyfriends were allowed to get to know me. Because of this.
I never let them pleasure me, that would mean loss of control of the angle they observed. And those were serious relationships - as far as a ring on my finger, which I bleached.
I finally emotionally detached my self completely from him and voilá, that relationship was over as it got a bit too real.
I refuse to see or have children with the one man I ever loved because of all this.
I have totally isolated my self, as mentioned above, thinking about skills I choose to put aside and ignore just to avoid social ‘pain’- I can draw and paint to save the planet, I have studied classical oboe at the conservatory, danced, mastered a language meticulously, and would like to attend acting school for theatre, learn eurythmy, become a teacher, attend a real fine art’s school, travel, work, volunteer, create and become a decent human being who can be part of and contribute to society, but I’m too embarassed to walk out in sunlight.
My parent’s attitude only has made it all worse. My mother has none of this and she never listened when I tried sharing or asking for help, I was just left to deal with it from childhood. o I stole regular hair bleach and covered my body in it since 5th grade. Since I moved out as a teen, after speaking to them I’d get a week long hangover of tears, fears and despair every time, even on e-mail; so I won’t talk to them anymore. 2 years now.
It’s just - limbo. Fix it? Accept it? Both? I’m done whining, sorry. Also I contacted a recommended electrologist and now, I just wait.
In any case, I am grateful for this site and this chance to articulate my situation to people who understand, this is the first time I have “met” others who dare speak openly about this topic and just that has eased my little bumpy ride here. I hope I soon get to collect my self and make some seriously delicious lemonade on this ton of lemons.
I wish every one of you lots of joy and years on top of years where you just enjoy and feel blessed for being, and such a beautiful being as