Embrace the splash!

There a four toilet cubicles near my office.

Four cubicles yes, but not four cubicles that I can actually use.

In the last eight weeks, at least one or two of the toilets has been out-of-order at all times.

It’s really annoying, but I put it down to working in an old building.

NO!

This is not the reason, well not the only reason.

This toilet break down, out-of-order phenomenon is not happening in the men’s toilets, and their pipes are as old as ours.

I have figured out the cause and it needs to be discussed.

Nesting!

Yep, you heard right.

The act, that pertains mainly to women, of padding the toilet bowl with copious amounts of toilet paper.

Why?

To eliminate any noise, any splash, any indication that something other than a wee is taking place.

God forbid we should need to poo, and strike us down if it should be at work.

Why ladies, why?

Your obsession with nesting and pretending that you don’t shit, is causing a major disruption in my office and ultimately a major disruption in my day.

Just let it go, bombs away, snap one off, lay cable, drop the kids off. Call it whatever you want, but just do it.

I spoke to a “friend” (yes it was me, but let’s go with friend) who was once involved in a 20 min stand-off with a lady in another cubicle. They both knew what the other was there for, but neither was going to give in, end it early and try again later. I’m proud of my “friend” and her staying power! That feeling of victory when you hear the other toilet flush is worth the wait.

** I am actually unable to nest or pad the toilet, due to growing up in a household where we were on rations when it came to toilet paper. I am still scared that my mum will appear if she hears me wasting that much toilet paper.

We need to empower ourselves and each other to take a crap without hesitation. Lose the fear of the cubicle.

Workplaces need to provide spray, ambient music should be playing and if they are really evolved, some of that smell eliminating spray. You know the one you spray in the water before you go?

This spray will not be of any use if you have what is commonly referred to as a “Whoopsy poo”.  You confidently walk in for a little twinkle, sit down, tear off your 3-4 squares and before you can clench or nest, you’ve made a bigger splash than an Olympic diver. Whoopsy!

You must now sit and listen to footsteps, toilet flushing and door openings to be able to tell when everyone that heard the splash has now left the bathroom.

There’s always that one person though who takes ages washing their hands, or carries dental floss in their pocket and decides to floss a molar or two, and they see you.

In the past you would’ve looked down at the ground, not making eye contact.

You would’ve grabbed your stomach or tried to look in pain.

Well not anymore!

From this day forward I want all women to unite, to stand tall and EMBRACE THE SPLASH!

Walk out with your head held high, make eye contact, a cheeky wink or nod lets her know you’re OK with what just went down. Literally!

If you’re having a particularly confident day, you might want to add;

“Phew, that feels better”.  *add a double thumbs up for effect

“More room for cake”.  *pat your tummy happily to emphasise your point

or a favourite of the men in my family;

“I don’t remember eating that!”     *using your thumb to point back over your shoulder towards the cubicle.

Have a bit of fun with it and enjoy people’s reactions.

The toilets at work are all in action as of 11 am today and I hope it stays that way.

Keep up your fibre intake and have a great day.

Lisa XX

The Lady with the Big Heart

There is a lady I know whose heart is so big that it sometimes causes her pain.

Not due to any enlarged heart, medical type illness, but because she is so sensitive, giving and open to the feelings of others that her heart sometimes goes into overload.

Over the past few years the ladies’ heart had endured many ups and downs.

The lady had found her place in the world. A place where she felt at home, had found a tribe she connected with and a job to do that left her feeling fulfilled. Her heart was full of happiness and a sense of belonging.  She genuinely loved others and they genuinely loved her back.

The heart knew the lady was happy because the sound of her laughter could fill a room and her connection with those around her was authentic. Some people even loved hearing her so much that they called her “The Voice!”

As life often does, it threw the lady a big curve ball. She had some very big decisions to make. The heart knew that the lady was struggling with these decisions because sometimes it hurt. When the lady was alone and thinking about what she needed to do for her family, little ripples of pain went through her.

Isn’t it unfair sometimes that when we make a decision that will give the best outcome to others, we lose something within ourselves?

The lady was amazing and she put on her happiest face and used her most convincing voice when she spoke to other people, but she couldn’t fool her heart.  The heart was feeling the lady shut down bit by bit.

The lady even started ignoring her heart when it started to feel broken and sad. She made big life changes and tried to see the positive in all situations. The more her heart tried to tell her something, the more the lady shut down and stopped listening.

The heart knew that things would get worse before they got better, so she hung in there and kept beating, knowing with all her might, that the lady would listen to her again one day.

The heart sat back and watched as the lady went through some really hard times. The lady had to step away from using her special gifts, because she knew she was not able to give her energy to others when she needed it all for herself.

The lady tried lots of different things to feel that same sense of connectedness that she had once known, but it was not the same.

The lady knew that something was missing but she didn’t know how to fill the void. She gave so much of herself to others. She welcomed little people into her home, but she knew this was not the answer.

As the lady started to listen to her intuition again, the heart started to feel more alive. The ripples of pain started to lessen and the ripples of happiness returned.

The lady tried again to give life to new beings, but this was not meant to be. The heart knew this was such a shame because the lady was a born nurturer. Maybe as she learnt to nurture herself more her life path would reveal itself.

The lady is braver than she will ever know, more loved than she can imagine and a source of strength to others. The impact she has had on others is immense and she will learn not to underestimate this.

The lady is healing at the moment from an operation, and her heart is healing too. They are both taking the time they need to reflect and ponder.

Never under-estimate the power of a good pondering session. Allow your mind to float gently back over the decisions and directions that have bought you to where you are today. Accept that you can not change anything that has happened in the past, forgive yourself for any situation you wish you would’ve handled differently and most importantly, know that you decide how the future looks.

The lady with the big heart is going to emerge healthier, more grounded and with a stronger sense of self than ever before. She will again listen to her heart and they will work together to be all they need to be.

The big hearted lady will learn to keep a bit of her heart for herself and she will not feel guilty about this. Her need to nurture herself will make her a better nurturer of others.

I love this big hearted lady and I would like nothing more than to be able to take her in my arms and squeeze the absolute shit out of her, but unfortunately I can’t at the moment. As life gets in the way, sometimes we don’t communicate as regularly as I would like, and I will make more effort to rectify this situation.

I want the lady and her big heart to know that they are loved, supported and being sent healing vibes from afar.

Lisa XX

 

Xmas stocking fillers (literally)

Well people, December is upon us again.

We can read a calendar, we know what comes after November, and yet it still seems to sneak up on as and wreak havoc.

I’ve expanded my Christmas shopping tools this year, partly to embrace online technology, but mostly to avoid shops, people and Christmas craziness.

I find myself buying some items off the ads that are more increasingly being added to my Instagram feed.  I have had a mix of hits and misses, but am happy to report that the hits are winning at the moment.

One of the things I have had from these ads is a massive shock, like massive!

A product has been making its way onto my Insta feed a little too much.  I am really concerned that if the ads are linked to our online presence or searches (don’t really understand it) then what does the internet world think I’m into?

Let me set the scene….

I am sitting on my couch, post Pilates, nursing an ice-cold water or G&T depending on the day. I decide to have an Instagram session, see what my online besties (people who have no idea who I am) are up to.

** Note – I was scrolling last week when I had jet lag and I went deep. You know that scrolling session where it takes you 18 back arrows to get home? Well let’s just say that I am now following Patti Newton, I know all of her grandkids names and I may have liked a pic from May 2014. Take care out there. **

So, I’ve just returned to my newsfeed when bam! THE AD appears.

I nearly scroll past but something catches my eye.

Can this be real? Is what I’m reading actually real?

I go back and re-read, I flick through the numerous pictures and it’s confirmed.

THE AD wants me to purchase a pair of undies that can hold up to 2 tampons worth of liquid.

Sorry, what? 2 tampons worth of liquid! That liquid is blood.

Yep, you heard me. Period undies!!

Someone out there wants me to walk around the streets, going about my daily life, all the while “free bleeding” into my undies.

NO! Just NO!

From someone who grew up wearing a mattress thick pad for the first 2 years of having a period, I cannot compute this item.

I spent all of my high school years, at period time, asking my girlfriends at the end of every class,

“Can you check?”

They knew exactly what I meant and lots of you reading will too. Getting your friends to check the back of your school dress in case of any leakage, which in itself was so unlikely given the 3-inch thickness of the pad you changed every hour………because paranoia.

Not to mention the fact that you would’ve needed to go home from school, with your jumper tied around your waist (a dead giveaway) and depending on the damage you might’ve need to change schools.

How can I now be expected to bleed freely into a set of bloomers?

**Bloomers was the 80’s/90’s term for a pair of thicker black undies, that you wore over your undies, under your school dress or netball skirt, so that no-one saw your undies. No allowing the vag to breath in the 80’s! **

I would be asking strangers on the train, the tram, at work, while shopping to “check me”! I would not be able to function in society anymore.

When discussing this item and my shock with my daughter she sends me a picture of the ad for the period bathers!

Are these people just taking the absolute piss now?

Am I the only one who saw Jaws? I am not willing to take the risk of being shark bait just to be on trend or save a tree or two.

I will continue to do what Dolly Doctor told me to do in 1988 and I will securely wedge the tampon string between my bum cheeks when wearing bathers. She hasn’t let me down yet, bless the Doctor.

Is this an environmental issue? Is there a cotton shortage?

I have Scott (husband) out in the back yard as we speak, digging a garden bed. He thinks we are planting some salad veggies, but I am going to be growing my own cotton. I have joined Pinterest and I’m sure there will be a DIY tampon making tutorial on there somewhere.

I will be rolling and stockpiling my home-made tampons. I’m basically the doomsday prepper of periods!

I will not be at the mercy of the free bleeding revolutionaries.

All being said and done I am fully supportive of a person’s right to choose. Do what’s right for you, and please if anyone tries these undies you must let me know. I will supply the wine and you can supply the details.

Have a happy and safe festive season and enjoy lots of laughter with loved ones.

Lisa X

Below is the link for the ad for anyone wanting a look.

https://www.shethinx.com/collections/period-panties/?utm_term=bing_261782111_1137994568852081_71124705248039_kwd-71124764647037:loc-9_c

Embracing the whiteboard – part 3 – (“The bedroom edition” )

Hi there, I hope you’re well.

Have you been embracing the whiteboard?

Did you “drop” anyone from your team?  Have you used the “votes system” to get the team performing?

Keep using the language of football and encouraging your family with statements like pulling your weight, contributing to the team and work ethic. These words are good reminders that we all have a role to play.

This week is a special edition of embracing the whiteboard and one of my personal favourites.

We will be using the language of football to assist you and your partner in the bedroom!

I know this sounds amazing, but it really works. By implementing a few simple steps, you can use the language of the great game (that may sometimes annoy you) to your benefit.

Over the years I have heard many, many coach’s addresses to their team. I started to notice that there are a number of sayings, clichés and terms, that coaches use. When I began to document and research for this program, I realised that these terms could be applied in other situations.

There are so many double meanings and if you’re willing to be a bit silly and let your dirty mind take control for a while, it can also be quite amusing.

To the untrained eye it may appear that the team is just running around with no real direction or strategy, and on some days, it may feel like this to the coach too!

But what many people don’t realise is that there a number of “set plays” that the team must learn in order to move the ball effectively around the ground. This is often referred to as the game plan.

In this, the third session of “Embracing the Whiteboard”, I will show you how to harness the power of the “football cliché” and the “set play” to spice things up in the bedroom.

I will show you how by carefully choosing the words you use and the way you say them, your “special adult time” will become next level!

For this session, I suggest getting yourself a small whiteboard.

How to use it will be shown in the short instructional video at the end.

 You’re here, let’s get started.

Part 3a-  Football words and terms for bedroom fun!

You may have heard the use of terms in the media or when listening to a coach’s address, and not been sure what they mean. It really doesn’t matter what they mean, we are not using them for their real meaning anyway, what matters is that you can use these words to give your partner some very specific instructions that will be understood with crystal clarity.

There are many words that coaches and the football community have to describe activities that happen on the field. This session I will be listing a number of these words and terms below, but instead of telling you what they mean, I will demonstrate how I would use them.

Watch the short video at the end.

Trust me though, you will get a fair idea of just how erotic the language of football can be if you approach it with a dirty mind.

Football words that can be used in the bedroom-

composure                skills               efficiency                   rotations/rotate

“midfield tap zones”            consistency            “dead pocket”               “advantage area”

ball skills/handling             “push up to the play”                       “up the corridor”

“front and centre”                       “get involved”                     “be accountable”

“cover the exits”       “defend the ball carrier”                 “stay low in wet conditions”

“two hands to the contest”

Read them again, say them in your best sexy voice.

Yes, that’s right, footy is a sexual game.

Part 3a-  Organise some set plays

A coach will have a number of set plays that they will want their players to learn.  The “set play” is a series of movements the team will make when instructed. It is most often seen as players, organising themselves at the kick in and around the centre square when the ball is to be bounced.  There may also be set directions of play that the team needs to follow when moving the ball from one end of the ground to the other. Coaches often have code words for their set plays.

How handy would this be if you and your partner had some “set plays” and “code words” of your own?

At home, this might look like-

Kids are all occupied, one’s asleep, one’s at a friend’s house and one is playing video games with noise reducing head phones on (add or reduce scenarios depending on your number of children).

You catch your partners eye over the piles of washing needing to be folded, you take a few tentative steps towards them, only standing on 3 small pieces of Lego, and you whisper in their ear,

“you have been rotated off the bench (get your arse off that couch), get onto the ground (the bed), you have 5 mins to move up the corridor, staying front and centre, no playing behind the packs! I want you using both hands. Show me your skills and be efficient. I want results!” 

As you train and use the language more you may even have it down to a code word!  

Depending on the ages and genders of your children, your code word could be Frozen or Cars!  It gives you and your partner the opportunity to know what’s about to happen without anyone else knowing. If you ever get the chance that is!! 

Good luck and keep using the language of football as the offseason approaches. Keep practicing and using that whiteboard.

Please watch the short instructional video to see how to implement the strategies we have learnt about today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Embracing the whiteboard – life lessons of an experienced football wife.

I believe that all experiences in life are to teach us something or they are preparing us for something great. Maybe it’s our life’s purpose or helping us find our true passion. Whatever the reason I have decided to act on it.

I have made the decision to use my vast knowledge of football to help other women. I have written a four step program (4 quarters) called “Embracing the whiteboard”, to help women, like my past self,  who may be struggling with the all-consuming game.

A bit of background for those who are not familiar with my story-

I started studying the art of football about 26 years ago.  I studied closely and followed the game religiously, I may also have been following a certain young man but that’s beside the point. What I was to come to realise was that being a footballer wasn’t just the weekend hobby I thought it was.

It was all consuming. The training, the game day routine, the superstitions and like a part of society I had never experienced before, a sub culture, it had it’s own language.

Through my program, “Embracing the whiteboard”, I will show you how to incorporate the terms and strategies used by coaches and players, to transform your home life and have your family playing like a premiership team in no time.

I understand the power of language and trust me the language of football is a powerful one. I have spent years researching and living it, so, I know. These words can get a sane man to run out onto a field in the middle of winter, to chase a ball and get it through some sticks, while wearing shorts and a tank top, and being pummelled by other men.

Powerful stuff.

Now you too can harness the power of this language and make it work for you. This program is like de-coding an ancient language and finally understanding the meaning of life.

You will also learn how to use your voice as a powerful tool. By just dropping an octave or two you can illicit a response from your team that you never thought possible.

During the program “Embracing the Whiteboard”, we will look at –

  • Incorporating the whiteboard into daily life
  • Assigning the chores and actually have them get done
  • Making family time a priority
  • Letting your children compete for your love and receive votes
  • Marketing and branding your “Team” for buy in

And my personal favourite –

  • How to incorporate “footy speak” into the bedroom (absolute game changer)

This program will change your life, and if it doesn’t it will give you a laugh and you will have some new words in your vocabulary.

Each session will be accompanied by a short instructional video that will put all we have learnt into practice and give you a format from which to learn the language.

There is no time like the present, you are here now, so let’s get started.

Part 1- Incorporating the whiteboard into daily life 

The whiteboard is an integral part of this program. If you don’t already have one at home you will be making a purchase soon.  If you’ve ever seen a football coach heading out onto the field to address his players he is most likely carrying a whiteboard.  It is covered with lots of little magnets, they have the players names on them.

It’s very important, as the players look to the whiteboard for guidance. They look to the whiteboard to know what is expected of them, where they should be and what they should be doing.

About 8 years ago I developed the whiteboard system at home. I’m here today to share my tips to make the whiteboard the source of truth in your home. You will need –

A white large whiteboard, whiteboard markers and a ruler.

You will rule the whiteboard up giving each family member a column, a column for dates and a column for notes.

Now for the most important part, the language of the whiteboard. You need to know the terms but you also need to understand their meaning and how to use them correctly. Below is a list of terms that you will be using and their meaning-

  • Positions – this tells all team members where they need to be and when. Knowing your position and that of your team mates allows you to offer support and be supported.

At home this look like – Morgan – deb practice – Wednesday night 7pm. The team can then organise who will need to be there to support Morgan by getting her to practice.

  • 1%’s (one percenters) – the small tasks that may not get a lot of recognition but need to be done for the team to win.

At home the 1%’s might be cleaning, putting the bins out or feeding the dog. No glory attached to them but they are essential.

  • Weekly Focus- having a weekly focus lets the team know what takes priority that week. It helps the team prioritise and lets them know why other things may have to be overlooked to meet the focus.

At home it helps have a conversation, “Sorry Paige but you can’t go to that party this Saturday, look at our focus for the week. It’s Morgan’s Deb. The team’s focus takes priority so try again next week.” 

  • K.P.I.’s (Key Performance Indicators) – these are the measures that let the team know what they are working towards in their game plan. These are usually measured quarter by quarter in a game. It shows teams where they may need to apply more pressure or applied focus. eg -tackle count – shows how much pressure they have applied to the opposition.

At home I prefer to measure the KPI’s weekly. I often set them around cleaning chores. One of my favourite KPI’s is toilet cleanliness. If I see a skid mark in any toilet then I know we are not applying enough pressure to the toilet with a brush or toilet cleaner, and it’s an area for improvement.

Please watch this short instructional video to see the Whiteboard Address in action.

**Don’t forget to practice and join us in 2 weeks to learn how to use this empowering language to get your children to compete for your affection, by introducing a votes system. Revolutionary!**

 

 

 

I became a new mum, but I didn’t have a baby…

Last weekend I became a new mum.

But I didn’t have a baby!

My youngest daughter, and last child still living at home, left to head overseas for 7 months to perform on cruise ships.

I am so proud and so excited for her, but it hit me hard. Harder than I was expecting.

Yep, my nest is now empty, but it was for half the week anyway. It wasn’t like she was home every night and she was always busy, so I’m used to her not being physically here.

But she was always coming home at some point. Or calling to ask something, or calling to check on me and find our where I was (yes the tables do turn!).

What has hit me is that I am a new mum.

I am not the same mum I was this time last week.

I am now a mum who has raised her kids and they have left home.

Now I feel like someone who is a mother, but not a day to day mum.

I am fully aware that raising strong, independent and courageous women was always the end goal, but that doesn’t mean I am ready.

I feel more unsure of myself right now than I did the day I brought by first baby home from hospital.

I remember placing the capsule in the nursery,  looking at Scott and saying “What now?”  This is exactly how I felt on Sunday.

I held it together at the airport but when I got home to my quieter, cleaner and emptier house, I looked at the same man, 22 years later and whispered through my tears,

“What happens now?”

I feel empty. And yet my life is full.

I feel unsure of my identity. And yet, I have a life where I am Lisa, not Mum.

I feel this ache in my soul for every minute I didn’t appreciate or the minutes I thought I would have more of.

I keep wondering if I did enough. Have I sent them off with enough life skills, memories and advice?

It’s not a logical process, it’s a gut wrenching physical one. I have loved being a mum and I have been bloody good at it.

I have put a lot of thought into who and how I would be when the time came for my nest to empty out, but it didn’t prepare me for the actual event.

I won’t come home and see 16 cups, 10 plates and 9 forks on the sink (not in the dishwasher) and many bodies on the lounges.

I won’t hear arguments and singing from the bathroom, which has taken on a golden glow from the fake tan and bronzing powder.

I will no longer be called on to fetch more toilet paper, settle a dispute over clothing ownership or help with life’s big issues, like wedges or stilettos.

My washing basket will no longer be overflowing, my house will stay cleaner and I will not have to fight for the remote as much.

We will also be able to holiday on the Amalfi Coast in Italy each year with the money we are saving on sanitary products.

It’s actually sounding OK……

I did calm down (much to Scott’s relief) after an hour and a half of really ugly crying. Like U.G.L.Y.! I tried to eat an omelette to distract myself and nearly vomited. You get the picture.

Poor Scott, he probably wanted to have a quiet moment, maybe a tear and reflect on how his life would now be different (in reality, he probably just wanted to get back to his football reporting), but he was really supportive.

He walked at a steady pace around me, not making eye contact, like you would walk around a wild animal when you’re not sure if it’s going to strike. He empty bins, cleaned things and did really random chores.

When my crying had calmed to that hiccup breathing, with moderate sniffing, he approached cautiously.

“Why don’t you do some writing, do something for your blog?” Bless, he was trying to offer a distraction, trying to be positive. Did it work? You be the judge……

“I can’t write my fucking blog because I don’t have a fucking computer. That’s right everyone else has one but Paige just left, Morgan doesn’t live here anymore and you use yours all the time. So, yeah, thanks for that!”

Insert more crying here.

The following sentence proves what an amazing man my husband is and how much he has learnt by living with 3 women for many years,

“Let’s go and buy you a computer”.

The poor bastard would’ve bought a new car, moved house and I think I could’ve milked it for a new puppy.

He was desperate. There was a crazy lady in the kitchen and he wasn’t convinced she was leaving any time soon.

Soooooooo, I’m writing this on my new computer. I may have been distraught but I am not stupid!

Life is getting back into routine. I love FaceTime and I can see that my baby is doing well.

I also have my oldest daughter living about 20 mins away, so I will now put a lot of pressure on her to see me more. I will bribe her with brunch and shopping. I will cry if needed.

I say thank you to the beautiful people in my life who saw through my bullshit façade and knew I would be a wreck. Your support, messages and advice have been invaluable.

To the man who helped fill my nest (sounds weird but I’m going with it) and now gets to share it with me while it’s empty, I thank you. You are my rock and I know the group message we have added you into is confusing and foreign, but you persevere. We will even let you use the thumbs up emoji.

I’m getting used to having more free time. In fact,  I’ve got to go now.

I have Pilates, then I’m getting a mani-pedi,

I had to fit it in today because the life drawing class I’ve signed up for was overlapping with the interpretive dance group I’ve joined. I’m just trying to figure out when I can fit in “Drumming and chanting for sexual growth”.

Oh and of course the house is now empty so Scott and I are nude all the time!

Lisa XX

 

Our baby as she left to take on the world. XX

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hair today, gone tomorrow.

Back in October last year I published a blog about the horror of getting ready for Summer. And by getting ready for Summer I mean, removing enough hair from my body to feel comfortable wearing shorts, a skirt or for extra torture a bathing suit.

Since 2017 is the year of “Lisa gets her sassy on” (only referred to as this by me, no-one else knows and it’s never left my head before now), I decided it was time I did something about the body hair situation in a more permanent way.

I often refer to the bikini line region on my body as the follicle party region. All other areas of my body have a light to moderate amount of hair. Nothing too over the top. And then Pow! Follicular overload.

If you’re a visual learner imagine that small triangle they use to depict pubic hair is now a full-sized caution road sign, that stretches from hip to hip, belly button and beyond.

avviso
No go zone!

So, laser hair removal. I felt that it was my only option.

Because……sensitive to wax and creams, prone to in grown hairs from shaving, scared I was going to catch my lady lips in the emjoy not so gently and the lady at the threading place looked horrified when I asked her if she did bikini lines.

“Oh hey, do you want to put some cotton in your mouth, get really close to my vajayjay and rip some hairs out?”

Obviously did not think that one through beforehand. I get her horror. I mean she would need to wear a metal mouth guard to reinforce her teeth before attempting it.

So off to the laser clinic I go.

I had rung up to make the appointment and purchase the 10 session pack they told me should be enough to notice a significant result. I laughed inside because I knew this girl was on her way to buying a new car. 10 sessions, as if!

I also decided to throw in the underarms while I was at it. Why not?

I was told to shave the areas I wanted hair removed from. I had to block out time in the calendar for this, it was a big job. It had to be done the night before so the skin was freshly hairless.

I purchased a 5 pack of disposable razors, I didn’t want to get stuck half way through with a blunt razor.  I was picturing myself, bent over, hacking away at my pubic hair with blunt, rusty nail scissors. You know the ones you find in the bottom of the junk drawer?

So the day arrives.

I arrive at the clinic and am taken into the treatment room.

It’s explained to me that they will be using a highlighter to mark the areas that are to be treated.

Easy done.

The lovely young lady confirms that I am indeed having my underarms and my bikini line done.

Yes I am.

I am told to remove my clothes, use the wipes provided for the treatment areas and just pop up onto the table.

Can do.

All done, settled myself up on the bed, quick intake of breath as my body hits the cold paper. It’s at this point that I realise how vulnerable I am. Completely naked, on a treatment bed about to have a laser pointed at my most private of private parts.

** I was also concerned that I had taken off too many items of clothing. I have been known to stop listening at,  “Please remove your clothes”, and not hearing the last bit of, “Just leave your underwear on”.  It’s an important sentence and has seen me shock a number of practitioners! 

The therapist comes back in and I can tell straight away that I’m not meant to be nude.

She does a quick, high-pitched “OH”, and then says “We normally do one area at a time, next time just leave your underwear on and we can do the underarms first.”

As she approaches me with her highlighter I see her face start to distort. Oh god, what’s wrong with me?

She is looking at my bikini line and she says, “Didn’t they tell you to shave before you came in?”

“I did shave, I’m keeping this bit”, I say.

“What, all of it?” She looks slightly horrified.

I then go into a nervous, verbal diarrhea, justification,

“Oh this is nothing you should have seen it before, I’m old school I believe we should keep some hair down hair, I once tried to wax it myself and it looked like a patchwork quilt, I’m happy with that amount, do you really think it’s too much?”

She just looks, tells me it’s my choice and starts highlighting.

Then comes my favourite question.

I’m equal parts jealous and horrified.

Jealous that she get to ask people this everyday and horrified that I have to answer.

“Sooooooo, are you doing labia to anus?”

Say what?

Yep that’s right LABIA TO ANUS!

I tell her I am probably just going to stick with the bikini line for now and I will work my way up to it. Concern then floods her face as she looks deep into my eyes to tell me,

“You might want to consider getting it done soon, once the hairs are grey they aren’t affected by the laser.”

Thanks for that you labia ageist.

I finish the treatment, labia and anus still untouched by the “laser beam” and I get dressed.

All up I was in that little room for no more than 15 minutes. 15 life changing minutes.

I walk out, smile, make small talk, book my next 67 appointments, buy a scrub, a cream and a lotion to stop ingrown hairs. I’ll be honest, I was just buying everything she recommended in the hope that she would be so happy with her sales that she would forget about my nudity and not laugh with her friends about my amount of downstairs hair.

I leave my first laser experience with the following information-

  • I thought I had left a “landing strip” type of pubic set up, turns out that’s only if you’re landing the new Airbus 380.
  • I obviously have visible grey hair on my labia, which if not removed ASAP will leave my lady parts looking like the mad professor in Back to the Future.
  • I must leave my underwear on unless asked specifically to remove it.

The positives I take from this experience are that it didn’t hurt as much as I was expecting and that I will be reasonably less hairy by next Summer.

Lisa XX