The whole purpose of these 40 Acts of Courage is to help me to find my authentic self. I've been working to strip away the facade to see what I'm really made of. This act, then, feels completely counter to that mission. This is not something I've always wanted to do. It's not even something I really wanted to do. It made it on the list because someone suggested it. I ended up going when I did because a sisterfriend wanted to go sooner rather than later. The only good reason I could come up with to do this would be if it was requested by a lover, and since that region has been as deserted as the cities around Chernobyl, that seemed pointless.
Everything else on this list I did because it was important to me. This - well honestly, this just isn't. It's not something that would ever occur to me to do on my own. In fact, in the days since I did it, I have felt less at ease and comfortable - less like myself - than I have in a long time.
There are plenty of conversations that could be had about the politics of this particular issue - The Atlantic published a particularly interesting article in 2011 - but honestly, I don't want to. In fact, I really just want to forget this happened and wait the 3-5 weeks until I start looking and feeling like myself, instead of feeling like this:
For those of you who are curious:
1. Yes, it hurt like hell - even though I had two Tylenol and a shot of Tequila before going in.
2. Yes, it was really weird to be chatting with a 20-something girl while she poured hot wax on my nether parts.
3. No, I would not do it again, not even if my lover asked really nicely.
4. No, I don't judge anyone who prefers to do this. It just is not for me.
Well you learned something about yourself, and that was the goal!
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