Waxing

I've decided that I really need to try and blog more. Not so much because I need to get a higher readership or because I'm particularly worried about keeping you all updated on my life, but because in my day-to-day schedule I find that I'm not writing very much. And what I do write is for school. They say that every writer should at least make it a goal to write for 5 minutes every day. So start the timer.

Yesterday I got waxed. My legs and my eyebrows. Millions of hair follicles were gently coated in a warm, soothing wax, lulling them into a sense of false security. And just as things were starting to feel really nice, they were yanked awake in one swift motion, ripped from their home in my milky flesh and left for dead, abandoned on a strip of paper to be discarded forever.

The result? After an hour and a half of this repeated process my legs were smooth as a baby's. But did that make me feel any more attractive? Any sexier? Any more confident? Yes and no. The yes is more surface level and the no runs a lot deeper. Wax can't seem to pull out the insecurities and negative self-image I've let set root in me. If only that we're the case.