Image via Paramount.
If there’s one thing that I’m constantly complimented on, it’s my shiny extremely thick black hair. I get it from my dad. However, it’s not all glamour; I also inherited my excess body hair from him as well. Thanks Dad!
I’ve been fighting a lifelong losing battle to control the hair on my legs, as well my pubes. They grow like grass in summer.
I’d waxed for years, but it was so expensive and painful, frankly I got sick of shelling out a hundred bucks a month on having my body hair ripped out.
Hence, I started using an epilator on my legs and hair removal cream on my pubes, both worked equally effectively.
One evening, I was trying out a new brand of cream that had been on special at the supermarket and I’d just assumed that it would have the same processing time, so I didn’t read the instructions. I slathered the cream all over my vagina and along my bikini line to my bum.
Just as I was finishing, my mobile rang. It was my sister Elle* who was having marital problems at the time. I perched on the edge of the bath waiting for the cream to do its magic, as Elle launched into a full scale, blow-by-blow account of the latest drama.
I became so absorbed in the conversation that I didn’t notice how much time had passed. Then I started to get an insane tingle between my legs and up my bum. “Got to go,” I said, cutting her short, as I knew that I had to get the cream off immediately. (Post continues after gallery).
I grabbed the plastic hair removal implement. On first swipe, I knew something was wrong, because it hurt too much to use it. Then it literally started to burn. I jumped into the shower and ended up just using my hands so I could get it off as quickly as possible.
While I got the desired all-over-hairless result, my vagina looked as if it had been in a pub brawl. It was all bright red, swollen and sore. The skin was all raised up and pimply like a plucked chicken.
When I got out of the shower I couldn’t even pat myself dry because it was stinging so much. By now, it felt as if I’d scolded it in a boiling hot bath.
In agony, I went into the kitchen and put some ice-cubes into a tea towel. But it was far too sensitive to get the ice-pack anywhere near it. Over the next hour, the pain kept intensifying, and I got worried… really worried.
I finally called my sister back at around 10pm. At first, she thought it was hilarious until I got really angry with her and started crying. Then she knew it was serious.