I have started to do regular upper lip waxing. Never had to do it before but starting from September I have to do it on a monthly basis.
P.S. “Old” is not a negative word in my lexicon do I’m not looking for the reassurance that I’m not old.
Old Age Is Here
Clarissa's Blog 
That’s not uncommon. There are teenage girls with issues with facial hair.
There’s actually a prescription med — Vaniqa, if I recall correctly — that does a good job in retarding hair growth without more painful procedures. Manufacturer is a company called SkinMedica.
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Old is when you no longer care about the hairs, or when your upper lip is too wrinkly and your hands too shaky to faff with waxing! Waxing time is what I like to think of as maturity or proper adulthood (which is not a bad word in my vocab either – who wouldn’t rather have some delicious matured wine than something vinegary?). There is something grown up about deciding the occasional assault with the tweezers is no longer doing the job
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Yes! I’m a grown up! I like this approach.
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I’m extraordinarily happy to get older. Ah, yes. I like the fact that we get lines on our faces as we age, because I feel like a military conqueror who has earned every stripe. I am extremly proud of myself.
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You have a lot to be proud of!
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Well, the true test is whether the underlying self is proud or not, since the underlying self is authentic and cannot be tricked. And certainly it seems well pleased.
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“I’m extraordinarily happy to get older.”
Recently I also began to think the same, but I’ve never met anyone who would have agreed on this with me – especially in my demographic group: women in their early to mid 30s. I felt the oldest on my 19th birthday. I had a friend who was about 2 months younger than me, and yelled at me that how wrong it was for me to be almost 20. Since then almost 15 years passed, and I feel younger in my mind every year. I’ve always thought that only older people could be really beautiful, because their life was written on their face. There is the wise old face, the vile old face, and the empty old face. In Britain there are more wise old faces than in Hungary, maybe it’s also something that was ruined by communism. I hope one day I will have the kind of wise old face I like that much. (And I stopped worrying about aging when I passed 30, when I suddenly realized the insane fear of old age is mainly just a media-generated paranoia.)
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I remember myself at 20, and God, what a miserable, depressed, unhappy, terrified, painfully shy person I was. There were days I wouldn’t be able to leave the apartment because I was so terrified of people judging me.
I wouldn’t go back there for anything. Youth is a very sad time.
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If you live badly you have a great deal to fear from old age
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Also let it be said that I have Latin genes and have always had hair on my lip, but more so on my chin.
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I have northern European genes, no Latin we know of, but plenty of (dark) hair where society says it shouldn’t be!
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