You know those moments when a memory from your past just sneaks up on you. Especially a bad memory? Well, it happened to me today when I read this article.
When I was in 8th grade, my mom took my sister to the mall to get her eye brows waxed (she was in 10th grade). I, of course, wanted to tag along and I begged my mom to let me get mine done too. She agreed and I headed back. I knew waxing wasn’t going to be comfortable but what I went through was not the best first experience.
The lady had the wax WAY too hot. It stung so badly but I just assumed it was “normal.” When I was done, I looked in the mirror with horror. She not only waxed off the hair, but she pulled my skin with it. I had four huge chunks of skin missing. Super.
So there I was. A middle school girl with overly waxed eyebrows and scabs. Joy.
I assume my mom didn’t pay for it but it didn’t matter – it was horrific. My mom was pretty awesome about it. She let me stay home from school the next day and she even took me to the mall and spent ungodly amounts of money at the makeup counter trying to help me out.
It took me 8 years to get my eyebrows waxed again and the only reason I did it was because I worked at a salon and trusted the esthetician. I assume the girl at the mall had NO idea what she was doing.
I will try and find a photo (once the scabs healed) and post it. Can’t make any promises.