I have two black hairs on my chinny chin chin.
No warts or moles are involved. They are rebels, growing amongst a field of tiny blonde invisible hairs. Thick and silky, I’m sure they would grow to my belly button if I let them. But I don’t. I pluck them.
*audience heaves a sigh of relief*
But they’re always on my mind. It’s embarrassing to have chin hair, especially two black, thick rebellious chin hairs. I’ll be waiting in the doctor’s office, and someone will give me a weird sidelong glance, and I’ll think, “oh my gosh did I forget to pluck my chin hairs?”
Ladies aren’t supposed to suffer from black chin hairs.
I’ll be wrestling with my daughters and they’ll grab my chin in a headlock (“Let go, sweetie. Mommy needs to breath.”) and I’ll think about whether they feel those hairs.
Or when I’m with Michael, having a deep talk or … our quiet time. And he’ll be staring at me with eyes full of love and I’ll just be thinking about whether he can see those hairs. Even if I plucked them that morning, I still wonder if they’re there and are so ugly. What if he sees them? What if he’d be so put off he wouldn’t look at me that way again?
The worst I can think of was when I went to a concert, a Nickel Creek concert, way back when I was in college. And I got to meet the band. I was on cloud nine. But just as I walked away from shaking their hand and telling them they were God’s gift to mankind . . . I wondered if they saw my chin hairs.
Those blasted, bloody chin hairs.
Isn’t that crazy?
I mean . . . as I’m writing this I’m shaking my head at how self-involved it all is. Michael’s seen much worse on me than two black chin hairs. My girls wouldn’t care if I had a fu manchu mustache much less two hairs. And my favorite band–I don’t think they were staring at my chin the whole time, considering the hundreds of people crowding around them wanting their autograph.
(photo by stylewithfashion)
If wonder if everyone has something like that about themselves? That sixth toe or red mole or lightning scar or stretch marks or extra-fifteen-pounds that you feel self-conscious about? That you fixate on when you’re feeling less-than-stellar about yourself?
So I just need to let go of this shame and self-involvement.
I need to believe that others will love me no matter what, chin or no-chin hair.
NO, I won’t prove to the world that I have great self-image by growing out my chin hairs.
*Michael heaves a great sigh of relief*
But I’m going to trash those thoughts about them. When I’m with others, it will be about them and me, and I won’t let my self-esteem butt in between us.