In my online dating adventure (I have since deleted my profile) I stumbled upon a “Message me if,” portion where someone said to NOT message him if you, and I quote, “Slather on makeup,” well, I didn’t message him. But I would have loved to of shown him this picture and thousands of other pictures of women who love makeup and like to “slather” it on. Why? Because we’re all allowed to like our war paint. I have a healthy respect for cosmetics, I even work at an effing cosmetics store, though my natural face is just as pretty.

I’m going to tell you all a secret that I haven’t even shared with my own counselor, who I have been seeing for four years. I’ve never even had this conversation with boyfriends.

I have PCOS-Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. It’s a hormonal disorder that can produce male like hair growth patterns, which I have been blessed with. I HAVE FACIAL HAIR. I have to shave everyday. I grow thick dark hair all over my body, in fact. The worst, is my face, which is the most visible. I get a 5 o’clock shadow, even. I try and conceal the razor bumps and redness with foundation, though that only covers the discoloration, not the marks protruding through my makeup.

It’s embarrassing and I wish more than anything to get laser hair removal because it’s actually painful to shave everyday. You don’t know how lucky you are to not have to pull back when your Sweetie caresses your chin, or wants to nibble on your neck. I would like to stay longer at a Lover’s house, but I don’t want him to find out the truth about my face. I’m sure they have seen it and were being polite and not saying anything. But I know. I know it’s there.

I’m sharing this because I’ve always compared my “hairy-ness” to other women’s lighter hair and hiss when they complain about the woes of hair removal and how they have to get waxed every month or shave once a week. But I need to stop doing that for my own fucking sanity. I am beautiful regardless of the hair that grows on my face.

I’m fucking cute, ok? I don’t really like my face a whole lot. My body is something I have always loathed. Ya know, what? I’m really adorable in this picture. I like my butt; how my hips curve in and my legs are sharp! My tummy is my worst enemy. But it looks rather ok here. My big feet? Well, they’ll just leave a bigger foot print in people’s lives. I’m ok with that. I like my body today. We’ll see about tomorrow.

I'm gonna sound old

But, what happened to the education in the cannabis community? I see all these blogs that I follow with questions being asked from Little Buds (new stoners) and they can’t answer their questions. Simple things like What is a percolator for on a bong? How is a rig different from a flower bong/bubbler. Why are dabs stronger than flowers? When is the best time to trim your crop? Things like that that are seemingly common knowledge, are apparently not anymore. You also have to understand that I’ve been smoking off an on since I was 12 and I’m going to be 24 in November. I’ve seen the inception of concentrates and retailers since I was a little kid. It’s in our culture here in Northern California. So maybe I have a stronger opinion on these things. But it just seems like the cannabis community is more about how much dank you have and how cute you look while blowing out smoke. Where in the hell did the education go? Seriously. Where?

The Oldest Story in Narcotics Anonymous

This little kid wants to play with his dad. He’s trying to get his dad’s attention, but his dad is an accountant and it trying to get rid of his son so he can continue working. So he gives the boy a ripped up map of the world and tells his son to come back in an hour when the map is put back together. The boy comes back in 2 minuets with the whole map put together. The father says, “son, that’s impossible, how did you do that?” The boy says, “Dad, on the back of the map of the world is a picture of a man, I just put the man back together and the whole world fell into place.” 

My manager and me were taking during closing last night and we were taking about guys in the program ( she’s in recovery too) and she asked what my drug of choice was. Which I haven’t really thought of for a while, ya know? I’m an addict, period. I’m not an opiate addict. Or a coke addict. But just an addict. So I kind of stumbled for what to say. Then I told her, “I did meth and smoked pot,” how weird those words were to leave my mouth. I haven’t said it in so long.

She was putting money in the safe and she looked up and told me that she was going to pray for me every night and that I have a lot of determination to have left those things and started anew.

I NEVER. I mean never thought of it that way. I had determination to stop using. I’ve heard the stock “you’re a miracle” but no one has put it in terms like that to me that I had determination to turn things around.

This is kind of big for me because jus a couple days ago I was feeling like a complete failure and that I should just relapse because this shit isn’t working out for me. Ya know, I think I’m gonna stay a little longer.

Watch on

Cecil Otter - City Girl (Amuse Meant To Get Her) (by datboiwes333)