I was on a plane back coming back from a long day in Sydney about 5 years ago, or maybe it was on the way there. Either way, I was sitting waiting for the plane to take off and I scratched my chin, only to be pricked with something stubbly. Mortified, I leapt to my feet and scrambled my way to the closest bathroom where my finding was confirmed. A black hair, just too short to pull out but long enough to see and feel, was sticking out of my chin. Feeling like the nasty witch from the Smurfs, I struggled with it in an attempt to pull it out. Not happening, as said hair was just too short! Crap, I’d only read about this ‘ageing’ process in magazines but god forbid, never thought it would actually happen to me.
I spent the rest of the day, touching my chin, trying to pull the hair out. As soon as I got home late that night, the first thing I did was run to the bathroom to pluck it out. Thank god for that, gone. For a few weeks at least.
So that was the start of my late 30 somethings, en route to my 40’s. Most women know what I’m talking about, been there, waxed that! Plucked, threaded, bleached. Anything to get rid of the dreaded chin hair.
This is it though. What I’ve realised recently is that we’re not in this alone. I’m not the only one with chin hair. I’m not the only one feeling guilty because I just scoffed down the last portion of sticky date pudding. I’m not the only one feeling stressed & overwhelmed at times and utterly joyful at others. So many of us are in the same boat. Feeling similar things, experiencing life’s ups and downs each and every day.
That’s why I’m compelled to write a new blog. To let others know they’re not in this alone. We all have dreaded chin hair.. We all have amazing, joy filled days and others where we want to crawl under the covers. I hear quite often, “how do you do it all”?! I’m here to tell you, I’m no different and I’m not always ‘doing it all’. I’m just like you, finding my way through this maze and still working out what I want to do when I grow up.
So this is me. Warts (chin hairs) and all. I felt that there was only so much chatter my brain (and husband) could handle, so why not get it down. At worst, it’s a diary for me. At best, someone else might read it and feel happy in the knowledge that they’re not alone. So forgive me for being frank. Forgive me for being up some days and down on others. This is just me and my journey and my laughs along the way.