It Ain't Easy Being Downy

So, I have a question for all of you, but, first, a story.

Ever since I can remember, I have had a pretty fuzzy face. It's not hairy so that I have to comb it or anything, but it's definitely fuzzy.

When I was in grade four and the weather had just warmed up enough for us to have Phys. Ed. outside, we set up the high jump bar on the strip of grass next to the gymnasium and lined up to take turns hurling ourselves over it and onto the big rectangle of foam that broke our falls. Up north here in Saskatchewan, the sun still doesn't climb that high in the sky in early spring, so the sunlight was hitting us at an angle that makes it look like evening for hours.

It's the kind of light that makes everyone look more beautiful than they normally look, but, apparently, not me, at least that day. The kid behind me in line poked me on the shoulder blade and said "Hey, you have really hairy earlobes."

Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that this fuzz extends right over my earlobes. They're very soft.

"What?" I said.

"Your earlobes. They're really hairy," the kid said again.

"You could braid them," a second kid said.

A third kid reached out a finger to stroke one.

I wanted to die. I took two steps to the left where the gym's shadow hid my fuzziness.

Despite early pressure to feel shame about my fuzziness, I've never done much about it. Once, when I was about 25 years old, I borrowed my roommate's razor and shaved everything from my eyebrows down. It looked and felt pretty good until it all started to grow back in a couple of days later.

I waxed my upper lip a couple of times, too, but now I prefer to individually pluck out the darker hairs rather than go through what feels like tearing a band-aid from my tender flesh.

Maybe it's my newfound insecurity these days, or maybe it's a factor of being in my late thirties, but I swear that my whole head is getting fuzzier. In fact, I'd say it's getting downright downy.

I was going to provide a picture example of my downiness — which, again, isn't really all that bad, because it's not like I'm growing a beard here — but do you know how hard it is to capture the sun coming through your itty bitty face fuzz when it's cloudy out? It's hard, and it looks to the neighbour walking by your window like you're tonguing your camera lens. Hi, neighbour! Me and my camera are getting married!

Here's a picture I took three years ago that captures just a touch of the fuzz of which I speak, although barely:


So, here's my question: are any of you fuzzy, or even downy?

And here's another question: what do you do about it? Wax? Shave? Avoid bright sun? Twist it into tiny cornrows and decorate the ends with seed beads?

Me at Discovered Love

Five Star Friday's Edition #91