Today is my first day of this no sex, romance or flirting situation I’ve pledged to do for the next 40 days.
This morning when I decided to do this cleanse, I darted into the kitchen in my fuzzy onesie and rattled off the idea to my belly dancing, chocolate making, housemate, Jacqui. As I explained my plan to her, she heard the call and jumped on board. I’m excited to have her involved so that, along with you guys, we can be each others ‘vision keepers’ so to speak. Plus, it’s always more fun to do any kind of crazy cleanse with friends.
After Jacqui and I pinkie swore we’d do this, I pedaled my beach cruiser out to a yoga class at a new studio I’d been itching to try. In the midst of this very meditative yoga class, I came to the painful realization that I had booked a brazilian bikini sugar wax at a place in Santa Monica. I watched my mind take flight. My very first test! I hate getting waxed. I have heard from multiple sources that my threshold for pain is through the roof, but getting waxed is excruciating for me. Sugar is supposed to be a less painful way to go about ripping the hair out of your tender pores, but my god, I can’t imagine any treatment more agonizing. The sugar girls always laugh at my insanity as I lay sprawled out, clutching the table, sweating, wailing and thrashing around for dear life. My breath shortens and I can feel my throat constricting. I am fairly certain I’m their loudest client, with my blood curdling screams. Every time, the girls tell me to relax and assure me it gets easier. Liars. It never gets easier. Ever.
Wait, what am I doing? Oh, right, I’m meditating. Ok, breathe. Relax. My brain is going nuts. Since no one is going to be getting a glimpse of my hairless kitty anytime soon, why would I torture myself? My rational mind kicks in as I begin a full tilt argument with myself. Who am I doing this for anyway? I do always feel so clean and uplifted after a fresh wax, but, holy crap, it hurts. Is the pain worth the self gratification in the end if I don’t get to share it with anyone?
As tempting as it was to cancel, I kept the appointment and endured the torture. It only took a few minutes of agony. After that, the ecstasy of knowing it was over and I’d come out the other side, filled me with a wild rush of endorphins. I smiled as I sauntered out of the shop, proud of the commitment I’ve made to myself. I’m on day 1. I’m a strong woman and I’m doing this for me.
Word of the day: Strength