I’m about to get personal. Real personal.
Yesterday, I went in for my monthly tune up: waxing, manicure, pedicure. As I was laying on the table with my legs spread wide a part so Celia, my waxing lady (name changed for privacy reasons), could clear out the overgrown roughage, I thought about my vulnerable position.
Here’s a woman I hardly know, who hardly speaks English, touching and analyzing my lady parts more closely than anyone else I’ve ever known, besides waxing ladies of years gone by. My doctor doesn’t even spend that much time down there. And my boyfriend… well… let’s just say I’ve always been more of a giver.
It takes time to find and build a relationship with a waxing lady. They are not all created equal and it’s so necessary to find one who knows what she’s doing, doesn’t make you feel awkward, and doesn’t treat you like a leper if you’ve missed a month (or more).
Shhh… I’ve been slacking. It’s our secret though, ok?
It came to my mind, as I stared at the ceiling deep breathing through the pain, that Brazilian waxes are comparable to relationships. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have a really hard time opening up and allowing myself to be vulnerable with others, and not just men. It’s only recently that I’ve been putting myself out there. A little late in the game for a 31-year-old millennial. Most of my peers are YouTube and Facebook sensations.
An exaggeration you say? Maybe not sensations, but many are all about Instagram, Snapchat and sharing the nuances of their lives, not matter how insignificant, with anyone who will listen.
I’ve had a slow and difficult start.
Why though? If I get real with myself it’s mostly from my fears of being judged and criticized for my imperfections.
Nine years ago I dated a guy who tried to teach me to throw a baseball. Properly. I was so afraid of looking like an idiot I bashfully rejected his offer. What a shame. Now my dog suffers from my weak ball throwing efforts.
Thank goodness for smart people who created ball throwers.
But if I (we) can let a woman I barely know rip hair off my vagina, why can’t I open up to the world and be my truly authentic self? Why do I care so much what other people think or say? Why do I fear the unknown?
Working in my onesie
What if’s have held me back for too long. I want to make a difference in the world and I figure, spiritually speaking, the worse it feels the more I need to do it.
Like yoga, the hardest poses are the ones we should be spending more time perfecting. Practice is the only way to improve.
So my promise to you all, and myself, is to quit being such a ninny and put it all out there. To go for the gold and quit fearing rejections and criticism.
And while I won’t be posting half naked pictures any time soon, I will be opening up my heart and my inner thoughts, not thighs, to you. Hopefully you can learn from me, and if you share your thoughts in the comments, I can learn from you.
If any of you are interested, I’ve also started a Facebook Group called Working Women Warriors where we can share our stories, grow, and reach for success together