When I was at home in Montana this past Thanksgiving, I was given the task of going through my closet there and getting rid of anything I didn’t want or boxing up what I did want for storage. Along with my American Girl doll, some prized stuffed animals, and Cabbage Patch kids were boxes full of photos. Here’s what I learned from pictures: a) I was pretty stinking cute as a toddler, b) I took a ridiculous number of pictures in junior high and high school (and still do) and c) I had the hairiest eyebrows ever!
While I didn’t appreciate it at the time, today I am eternally grateful for the beauty torture ritual my mother started me on at an early age. That’s right, the waxing of the eyebrows. I was in sixth grade when my mom took me to get it done for the first time. As I recall, I was going in for a hair cut and she somehow managed to slip this little piece of torture in at the last minute. All I remember is that it hurt like hell. Here’s the problem with waxing, I don’t dread the first side. That never seems to be an issue. But after you’re done waxing one side of whatever body part you may be waxing, you have to make it even. I think you’re body releases extra pain receptors once the first side is done because now you remember how uncomfortable or painful it really is.
Despite hating the eyebrow waxing ritual for its physical pain and the mocking I received from friends at the time (all of whom later ended up waxing their eyebrows), today I am grateful that my mom cared enough to torture me. Now days, I just wax my own eyebrows. It’s cheap and easy. The problem with this is that I am not a professional waxer. And occasionally the wax gets away from me.
Last night I decided an eyebrow waxing was in order. I had plugged in the wax and then forgot about it because I was watching a movie. Two hours later, the wax was a bit more pliable that usual. And may have gotten into more brow than I intended. You know what the problem with wax it? It’s kind of like gravity, what goes up must come down. Or in this case, what wax goes on must come off. Somehow. While I probably could have gotten it off some other way, I figured it couldn’t be that bad, right? Try telling that to the matching bald spots I now have in both my eyebrows.
What really amuses me is that I managed to ruin not one, but both eyebrows. I seriously have a little bald spot in the middle of each brow. While it’s probably not noticeable to someone who isn’t observant (i.e. boys), if you’re looking at them it is definitely noticeable.
Alas, the good thing about hair is that is always grows back. Unless you have alopecia. In the meantime, I’m stealing a move from the “I’m going bald but don’t want to own up to it” play book. That’s right, I am calling in . . . . the comb over. Where I am desperately trying to get the remaining eyebrow hair to strategically cover up the bald spots.
Alas, there is nothing I can do but will my hair to grow faster. And really, it could have been worse. I could be missing the whole brow. Now wouldn’t that make for an interesting photo to find years down the road?
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