Have you guys ever thought about how different your life/personalities would be if you didn’t have a hair problem?
For some reason my body hair problem made me feel like I had to assume a different personality. In school, I’d be friends with feminine girls and I always assumed the role of the token funny girl of the group. I didn’t realize it then, but I guess I was trying to fit how I looked. I felt that somehow baggy jeans and long shirts required that I be the tomboyish friend with self-deprecating humor.
After college, I didn’t get those fun, interesting jobs because I just wanted money, so I can be hair free ASAP. Since I started working in 2008, I’ve finished laser treatments for my lower legs and underarms. So yes, I can wear skirts now Still working on my arms, thighs, and bikini (they are currently dripping with pepperspots). My others problem areas are nipples, lower back, and ass.
Sometimes I think, damn, this has ruled over my life. I’d probably have a different job if I weren’t thinking of treatments. I never travel, because instead of spending money on airfare, I tell myself to just spend it on hair removal. I very rarely go on beach trips because I’d wax and the thick, disgusting stubble would break through the skin after two days. Also I’ve never been in a relationship, not even on an actual date. I know this is largely due to my insecurity more than anything else. It’s like I have shut out the world just to deal with my situation.
And I’m not even done. Next year, I think I’m ready to move abroad (I’ve wanted to since graduation, but couldn’t imagine living with housemates who would see my legs everyday). I’ve decided to move to Singapore. Simply because it’s the nearest city with electrologists. That means 2+ years more of treatments. It gets tiring, you know? To always think about the next “project”, the next treatment to save up for instead of just living life.
A friend is inviting me to spend 2012 traveling around Africa with him. He’s a few years younger than me but he has experienced the world so much. He said I should stop working for a year and hop from one African country to another. But I told him I can’t. Of course I couldn’t explain my reasons. I can’t expose myself to the sun, and what about my laser and planned electrolysis treatments? I have to come in regularly, I can’t do that if I’m moving around Africa.
I try to stay positive, I really do. But god, I think I’ll be a more feminine, flirty, confident, adventurous, jet-setting person if not for all these hair. I’m just dying to live outside of myself, do normal and ridiculous things just because I can — spend money on travel instead of laser, pack my bags, go on a safari, wear a skirt and a sleeveless top in the daylight, sleep with someone without hiding my hairy ass, go to places I’ve never heard of, fall in love.
As Foer would put it, sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.