Hairless // Hirsutism

Avery's Story - 3

I eventually decide to get up. It's 7:30am which is actually quite early for me. I guess I just didn't want to lie in bed thinking of my problems. I need to occupy myself.

First part of my daily routine is visiting the toilet, where I roughly spend about 20 minutes listening to songs until one of my family members need it. The toilet is a very peaceful place. Nobody there to bother you and it's quiet. Silence is a true friend who never betrays. I wash my hands and then it is my least favourite part of the day. Shower time.

The worst time of my day is having to look down at myself, feel all the hairs on my body. Feel the things that have ruined my life. The things that make me hide under clothes just so nobody can see. So nobody can judge me. Trying to push all my thoughts away, I close my eyes and hum a tune. Music is sort of a release for me. To get lost in the words is kind of like getting lost in another world.

I step out of the shower as quick as I can. As always, I had removed the mirror from the wall so I couldn't see myself. I just didn't need that this morning.

The feeling of exposure sickens me as I feel the air on my body. Instantly, I cover myself up not caring that I have gotten it soaked. As long as I'm covered, I'm fine. Quickly I brush my teeth. Even they have have the tiniest hint of yellow. I touch the top of my mouth in disgust. I can practically feel the hairs growing under my skin. I need to shave soon.

Now the struggle of getting dressed without feeling like you are going to throw up. I look down at my hair covered body and cringe. Why did life insist on doing this to me? As quick as I possibly can, I close my eyes and put on my underwear. Then select a black long-sleeved jumper and leggings. No change there.

My mom did buy me a dress yesterday. I put on my mask of happiness and humour and accepted it graciously, saying all the generic things like 'Wow it's so beautiful,' 'Ooh I love it so much!' Not that I really meant any of it. I feel bad letting her waste her money like this. Doesn't she notice how I don't expose any of my skin. Hasn't she noticed a pattern yet?

Next is to do my long black hair. I hate it. Why couldn't I be blonde, even brunette? The hairs would be a lot less noticeable. Then maybe I wouldn't care as much. Since I refuse to use a mirror, I have to estimate how my hair should be and go from there. Besides, I've gone past looking good anyway. I style it in a ponytail today, as usual. I can't wear my hair down since it is a constant reminder of the hairs all over my body now. Who am I to copy all the pretty girls wearing their hair down? Nobody.

I open my bag and check my lessons for the day. English, Technology, Maths, French and PE. PE. Thinking about it makes me feel sick. I makes me feel all light headed and panicky, I can't handle it. It's not the sports (like it is for most people, normal people), it's the thought of getting changed in front of all my classmates and it terrifies me. Them all to see, them all to know. I'd rather not think about that. Wonder what excuse I'll have to make up this time. Classmates are staring to notice the lack of PE I do, but I don't care. They probably just think I'm a lazy bitch who just sits on her fat ass all day. Better than seeing the revolting mess that is me.

I pack up my bag and say goodbye to my family. I don't eat breakfast. The world doesn't deserve to waste food on me when others need it more.

I open the door, put on my false smile, my mask of false happiness and set off to school.

Avery's story is supposed to represent what it is actually like for people with Hirsutism. It does make you aware of all your other flaws. It does make you aware that you are not perfect. But, NOBODY is perfect. Everyone has at least one flaw. No matter how beautiful you think someone is, I guarantee they can find something wrong with themselves which you would deny. That's just the same for you. Someone out there thinks you are beautiful. You should listen to them you know:)