Facial Hair, Dysphoria, and How to Support Others
Think about how you can be a better ally and friend while being there to support someone who may be going through a tough process.
Facial hair has caused me dysphoria for a long time. I have been shaving my body for years. A few years ago, I started my formal transition and began taking HRT. This greatly reduced my body hair but does little to help with facial hair. Unless someone starts with puberty blockers or early HRT, the damage is done. The only effective way to remove facial hair is laser or electrolysis. Laser is relatively quick and effective if you have dark hair and light skin. For the rest of us, electrolysis is the only option.
Electrolysis is an old, proven technology. The operator grabs a hair with tweezers and inserts a needle into the hair follicle. A high frequency electrical charge is pulsed into the needle, effectively burning the hair's root and preventing regrowth. The effectiveness of the treatment depends on the stage of growth of the individual hair. Electrolysis is a slow process. It can take many visits over many years to clear your face.
It is also painful. The first hair the electrologist grabs and burns leaves me thinking that it is not so bad. Maybe a bit like a sting or a bite. By the 20th, I’m sweating. Nearing the end of a 30-minute session and hundreds of burned hair follicles later, my stomach is upset and I am sweating. She keeps asking how I am, if I am okay. I am shaky as I power through the end. Then I make my appointment for next week.
Beyond the pain and the cost, the primary downside is that I must grow out my stubble long enough to grab with tweezers. This is about three days’ growth. Leaving my hair grow for three days is incredibly difficult. I do not want to go out in public or look in a mirror. I just want to hide in the house. Unfortunately, that is not the way life works. So, I stop shaving on Sunday, go to work on Monday morning, teach Scuba Monday night and go to work again on Tuesday ahead of my afternoon appointment.
How can I explain how difficult this is? It feels like I am wearing a giant, uncomfortable sandwich board advertising a product I can’t stand. Nobody understands why I am prancing around with it in public and at work. Others may not see it as a sandwich board, but it sure feels like it to me. Obvious, uncomfortable, mentally painful, and represents something I want nothing to do with.
But here I am. It is Tuesday again and I am dealing with it. If I am lucky, I’ll only have 50 or 60 sessions to go.
I mention this today for a few reasons. First, transitioning is a tough, long, and painful process. I am fortunate to have insurance that covers much of the cost and I have enough privilege that I have access to most of the services I need. There are so many who can’t access services for one reason or another. I see this so often and it makes me sad. I will always be an advocate for those without privilege. I hope you will be too.
Secondly, if you see me with a three-day shadow, please show compassion. In my case, just pretend you didn’t notice and carry on.
More importantly, remember the story. If you see a lady with three-days growth, someone in hand-me-down clothes, someone who has not mastered applying makeup, or anyone else who may not want to be seen for some reason, show compassion. It can be hard to go out in public sometimes. Don’t tell people “It will be okay” or “you look fine, no one will notice.” That is not helpful. Just ignore the obvious and check in. Ask me how I’m doing. What am I looking forward to? Is there anything new I want to chat about? Be considerate. Think about how you can be a better ally and friend while being there to support someone who may be going through a tough process…
Or maybe just make me a muffin.
