Okay, so, this happened about a month ago. But at the time, I was so embarrassed about it that I couldn’t bring myself to write about it. Now that it’s been a while, I’m over it. It is pretty embarrassing, but I’ve decided not to care.
My boyfriend was going to come up to my dad’s cottage, and I wanted to take care of my hair down there so I could wear my bathing suit without having to spend money on a professional bikini wax. I know that one of my friends always waxes her own bikini zone, so I figured that I would give that a shot.
In retrospect, I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I’m a huge wimp. The only reason I don’t ask the aestheticians who wax me down there to stop halfway through my appointment is that my anxiety kicks in, and I assume that they will judge me as a human being for being such a wuss. I don’t know why I thought that I would have the willpower to rip hair off of my genitals using hot wax.
People always tell you to believe in yourself, but I really shouldn’t have in this case. Everything started out fine, though, so I felt confident. I had turned the wax heater in the bathroom on, cut the cotton I’d be using to rip the hair up from its roots into strips, and I had even put baby powder on my bikini area so the wax wouldn’t stick to my skin. I felt like such a pro!
It was finally time to start waxing. Putting the wax onto my skin and sticking on the strip of cotton was no problem. The trouble started when it was actually time to rip the hair out. I braced myself to pull off the cotton strip, but then I just didn’t do it. I was too scared.
Then I started to think about the previous time that I’d tried to give myself a bikini wax. That time, I had gotten so scared about hurting myself that I just left the strip on my vajayjay for hours. I eventually ended up reheating the wax with hot water and gently peeling the strip off. And then I had one hell of a time trying to get the leftover wax residue off.
I don’t know why I thought that I had gotten beyond that, but I knew that the pain would wear off faster than the wax would, so I took a deep breath and pulled the wax off. It really wasn’t so bad. At least nearly not as bad as I thought it would be. I decided that I could definitely finish the job and put some more wax down there. As I was putting the cotton strip on, I got scared all over again.
In fact, I was so nervous about pulling this strip off that I felt like I was going to pass out. I grabbed a towel and laid it down on the bathroom floor to make myself a place to lie down. I did some deep breathing to keep calm. When the light-headedness wore off, I stood back up and ripped that strip of wax off.
At this point, I probably should have stopped. But I felt like I had gone too far to turn back, so I applied the wax all again. I really don’t know why I got so nervous because the last two times were really not that painful. The worst part of the whole ordeal was the anticipation, which I was just prolonging by freaking out so much. But the light-headedness came back, and I had to lie down all over again.
I finally decided that I wasn’t cut out for this, and I stopped. The results weren’t pretty, but at least I made it out of that bathroom alive.