I’m pretty laid-back when it comes to my appearance. Since I work from home, my typical outfit consists of yoga pants with holes and cozy sweaters. Dressing up? That just means putting on real pants and maybe a touch of makeup—usually just some lipstick, and if I’m feeling adventurous, a swipe of mascara. My skin has been kind to me, so I generally skip foundation and blush.
When it comes to hair, I’m not particularly hirsute, so my shaving routine is rather simple. I only shave the bottoms of my legs and underarms a few times a week, and forget about it in the winter—if no one’s seeing it, why bother? My eyebrows are naturally full, and I’ve never had to deal with a unibrow, sideburns, or a mustache. That is, until about two weeks ago when the fine hairs above my lip suddenly darkened significantly.
What in the world?
Turning 38 this winter seemed to trigger a cascade of surprises—like a sudden increase in gray hairs. Each time I pulled my hair into a bun, it felt like I had a whole new batch of silvery strands. When I noticed the mustache, I speculated whether my hair color was somehow transferring to my face. A totally ridiculous thought, but hey, so is waking up with a mustache.
In my teenage years, I spent an eternity convinced I had a mustache. Armed with my mom’s magnifying mirror, I saw the fine hairs that everyone has above their upper lip. At 13, I thought they were glaringly obvious. I did something rather foolish: I grabbed my mom’s pink razor and attempted to shave them off, only to cut myself. The blood scared me so much that I abandoned the razor, and I’ve always believed that the area I did shave grew back darker. Thankfully, my upper lip hair never became a big issue—until now.
When I first noticed the change, I tried to ignore it. Maybe I was imagining things, like back in my teen years. But no matter how I looked in the mirror or in photos, that mustache was glaring back at me. I knew I had to address it.
I was determined not to shave it again and was terrified of waxing—who wants a darker mustache? So, I ventured to the drugstore and picked up some “crème bleach” (what a fancy term!). I didn’t mention this to anyone, as it felt rather embarrassing. I had no clue if the bleach would work or if it would make things worse. I envisioned a bright white mustache, which sounded just as bad.
On a quiet Saturday night, while my husband was at a family gathering and my kids were asleep, I decided to try the bleach. It stung more than the instructions suggested, and I almost wiped it off, but I pushed through.
When it was done, I was pleasantly surprised. The hairs lightened back to their previous color, and my skin remained intact despite the sting. When my husband returned, I shared my experience, but he seemed puzzled—he hadn’t even noticed the mustache in the first place (note to self: men can be quite oblivious).
Now, I’ve noticed that the skin on my upper lip has darkened slightly too. Ever heard of melasma? Me neither, but I learned there are creams to help, and I need to be diligent with my sunblock.
From what I hear, the mustache is just the beginning—apparently, chin hair is next. Fantastic.
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In summary, aging can bring about surprising changes, including unwelcome facial hair. Whether you choose to bleach, wax, or embrace it, it’s all part of the journey of growing older.