As a woman who enjoys a simple lifestyle, I often find myself dressed in comfy yoga pants and oversized sweaters. Working from home means I rarely need to put in much effort into my appearance—throwing on some actual pants and a dab of lipstick is my idea of dressing up. My makeup routine consists mostly of a quick coat of mascara if I’m feeling adventurous, and I’ve always been fortunate with my skin, so I skip foundation and blush altogether.
Hair removal has never been a significant concern for me either, as I’m not particularly hirsute. My shaving routine is limited to my legs and armpits—just a few times a week during the summer months. My eyebrows are bushy in a way I appreciate, and I’ve never had to worry about a unibrow or sideburns. Until recently, that is.
About two weeks ago, I noticed something alarming: the faint hairs above my upper lip transformed into a dark, noticeable mustache. What on earth is happening? Turning 38 this past winter seemed to have unlocked a new level of aging, as I’ve also been spotting more gray hairs in my scalp—every time I pull my hair into a bun, it seems like more gray has taken residence.
I can’t help but wonder if the melanin from my head is somehow migrating to my face, which is absurd but then again, so is the phenomenon of an overnight mustache.
When I was a teenager, I once panicked over what I thought was a mustache while looking in my mother’s magnified mirror. Seeing those fine hairs made me cringe, and in a moment of poor judgment, I took my mom’s pink razor to attempt a quick fix. I ended up cutting myself, and the first drop of blood sent me into a frenzy, abandoning my shaving efforts entirely. To this day, I believe that spot grew back darker, which kept me from ever touching it again.
Fast forward 25 years, and my upper lip hair hadn’t been an issue—until recently. When I first noticed the change, I tried to ignore it, thinking it was a figment of my imagination. However, it became increasingly hard to overlook. I felt compelled to act.
Rather than taking a razor to it again, I was wary of waxing after hearing horror stories about it growing back even coarser. Instead, I ventured to the local pharmacy and picked up a “crème bleach” product. I didn’t mention this to anyone—not even my husband—because it felt embarrassingly trivial. I also feared that the bleach would either fail or worsen my situation, potentially leaving me with a bizarre white mustache.
One quiet Saturday night, with my husband at a family gathering and the kids sound asleep, I decided to give the bleaching a shot. It stung a bit more than the instructions indicated, but I pressed on. When I finally finished, I was relieved to find it worked wonderfully! The hair lightened back to its previous state, and thankfully, my skin remained intact despite the initial discomfort.
When my husband returned home, I excitedly told him about my adventure. He was perplexed, claiming he had never noticed my mustache in the first place—note to self: men really can be oblivious.
Now, I’ve become aware of some darkening skin above my lip—have you heard of melasma? Apparently, there’s cream for that, and I’ll need to amp up my sunblock routine. Friends have warned me that the mustache is just the beginning; chin hair is likely to follow. Fantastic!
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Summary
Aging can bring unexpected changes, including unwelcome facial hair. After a decade of minimal concerns, I found myself dealing with a noticeable mustache at 38. I had a panic flashback to my teenage attempts at shaving and ultimately chose to bleach it instead. This experience has made me more aware of the changes that come with age and the importance of maintaining our skin.