Today I tweezed a chin hair that I fully believe could have been the next toughest material to diamond!!
I expected hot flushes, and maybe a bit of casual madness within menopause, but NOBODY warned me that I would literally turn in to a beardy bloke.
I’ve been noticing the changes over the last few years to be honest. I come from a fairly hursuit family; my brother is unmistakeably from the gorilla family with his hairy shoulders and back, and so I’ve always had to do my fair share of feminine maintenance. But more recently I noticed big differences in the type and amount of hair that was growing from my face.
Poor Jenny, my beautician, has fought valiantly against the tide of Dennis Healy eyebrow hair (see below), and again more recently the thick black lone hairs that spring forth from my “misstash” they are hideous and my bi-weekly trip to the said poor Jenny are more essential than ever.
However, I feel more than anything, that the menopausal beard is a site to behold!! Well it would be except that ageing has a duel cruelty…….you get the hair, but you can no longer see the sodding things to remove without your reading glasses on…….. for me, I was short sighted to begin with and I had genuinely hoped that, with age, I would become less short sited – nothing of the sort – now I can’t see far or near. THANKS MOTHER NATURE.
So now on a daily basis I have the unenviable job of FEELING for the hairs of doom, the Jean Claud Van Dam of the hair world, the ones that if I let them grow, I could probably slice cheese with……
I fear that by next year, the said poor Jenny, will be coming at my face with a strimmer!!!
Happy New Year
Love from Meena xx