Hair, Glorious Hair….or not.

So here I am, Mommy Undressed….who hasn’t been ‘undressed’ in front of people, other than BF and the minions on pants off Friday, in over a year. I know what you’re thinking, why would a mommy be undressed in front of anyone? Well, when I turned 30 I was in a much different place. My marriage was falling apart, I hated sex, and I was overtaken by postpartum depression. But I also made a vow to myself to change my life around. And starting that fall, that’s exactly what I did.

I was approached in the hallway at the college I was going to by one of the photography instructors who asked if I would be willing to sit for one of his classes. That’s where it started, and that’s where mommy really did come…undressed. I started to love myself again, and actually love being naked in front of a camera lens with a complete stranger behind it. It was a great year of nakedness!!! But now its been over a year, and I’m supposed to sit in front of 6 lenses held by complete strangers once again tomorrow.

I’m not sure if I’m going to actually be naked in front of all these strangers, but I will at least be bearing quite a bit of skin due to the fact that they will be shooting my tattoos. All I know is that I really should have splurged on a weed whacker today. When I woke up on my 32nd birthday last year all I saw was hair…lots of it.

It was growing down the inside of my leg…the front of my leg…the back of my leg.

It was growing up the inside of my armpit in crevices that I’m still struggling to reach with a razor.

After 4 days my toes are so hairy they look like hobbit toes.

Happy trails are no longer a right of passage for teenaged boys, but for women in their 30’s as well.

I’m pretty sure I can now braid my nipple hair. Which I’ve had for years.

My facial moles used to only grow 2 hairs each…now they each grow 4 to 5 each.

My chin has started sprouting one single hair that, thanks to BF, gets plucked when I’m least expecting it. That’s true love folks.

My mustache now makes my facial hair buzzer quake with fear.

I have butt hair…in my crack. There. I said it.

And I’m pretty sure I have back hair, but I can’t see it so that’s ok. But if BF starts plucking them during our ‘alone time’, shit is going to hit the fan.

So, as you can see, I have quite the landscaping job ahead of me. If I was actually making money at my current job that could pay for, well anything, I would have splurged on a first time waxing yesterday. Even though I’m pretty sure they’d charge my for a Brazilian if I asked for a bikini wax. Or double if I asked for a Brazilian. Even if I won on a scratch off ticket today, tomorrow would be too late to let someone else take care of my hair issue.

I need you all to pray for me, tonight before bed, that all my ‘unwanted’ body hair falls out while I’m sleeping. Don’t worry about the mess it’ll make, I do have a working shower and am able to wash my sheets.

6 thoughts on “Hair, Glorious Hair….or not.

  1. I just finished reading The Hunger Games for a second time, and really laugh at this, because the girl, who is 16 in the books, laments the fact that, whenever she’s getting ready for the cameras, has to have all of her body hair removed.

    I’m crossing my fingers that your hair just fell off . . . I’m dealing with the fact that hair is sprouting places that I didn’t think hair grew, though my quantity of hair seems to be constant — as it leaves my head, it shows up elsewhere.

    I’ve actually wondered what it would be like to sit for a photography/painting class — good on you for doing it. And good on you for making the changes that you needed.

    Like

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