My Sun Mustache or Be Grateful You’re Laughing

When I was a little girl, I walked up to a middle aged lady while in a Rite Aid and asked her why she had a beard.  Because the Universe has somehow decided that I am important enough to care about spiting me for this behavior, I was blessed with a mustache that is actually quite special.  It is known as melasma, but I like to call it my sun mustache.

Hmmm, as long as it's not a black zinc we are good.
Photo from:

  Since it is a sun related disorder, I think it becomes more pronounced when I get a lot of sun, which is what happened in Joshua Tree last week.

So anyway, my SO and I are laying in bed the other night after I have been gone all weekend, and we are both tired.  He’s been working a lot lately, and I have been trying to stay away so that he has time and space.  So we are laying in bed, and I am talking about something really heavy and deep because that’s me, and he says something to ask me about my mustache.

Screenshot 2017-06-26 at 1.06.28 AM.png

Because I am going to exaggerate the story slightly for effect, I think that he touched it, and even tried to kind of rub it off.  I can’t be certain if this actually happened, but he definitely looked at it closely.  I told him him it was freckles, and that I would go shave it to prove it to him.  The funny thing is that I look at this mustache all the time, and I see it in every picture I see of myself.  I’ve seen it for a long time. I see it more after the ladies who wax my eyebrows ask me if I need my lip waxed too, and I just want to look at them and say LADY I know you want my extra money, but look closely at the fur above my lip.  It’s blonde.  WAXING OR SHAVING AIN’T GONNA DO SHIT.

Anywho, I start showing Charlie selfies on my phone and zooming in on the freckles, and he realizes that he has hit a nerve, which is really kind of funny, because well, I’m a dirty hippie by choice, and I give no fucks about what people think of me, but at the same time I have this facial feature, that is just kind of funny and different, and I am going to start wearing zinc when I run or something like that, but yea dude struck a nerve.  I am kind of upset, but trying not to be, I haven’t seen him all weekend, and I know I want to cuddle up to him and be close, but at the same time, dude just told me I had a mustache, and we’ve been together for almost three years.  Now I just feel confused, and I let my anxiety kicks in.  I should do to a facial mask and cleanse my pours. I need to scrub my face.  I must be dirty and a hairy Italian like I always thought.  My lip hair is not blonde, I have a mustache like the Rite Aid lady.  Revenge has found me. Because again, the universe it has time to care about my dorky behavior as a kid.

sun mustache
You totally see it, right? I know you do. Admit it, it’s all about me!

Anyway, I needed to get out of my head, I wanted to reunite if you know what I mean.  I had been away for a few nights.  I excused myself to the bathroom to pee, where I promptly used the dollar shave club razor on the sink to shave a tiny bit over the freckles.  Nothing changed, the freckles were still there.  I was right, I was not crazy, it was freckles all along.

I hear footsteps, heavier than a cat, and I know Charlie is lurking at the door.  Are you shaving you face?  I say Even if I was, it’s none of your business, because I don’t have a real mustache it’s just freckles.  I hear guttural laughter from the bedroom, and a silly but babe, I love your mustache.  I sit on the toilet having a hard time peeing, because I am spending so much time laughing, but eventually I pee, and come to bed, and because I want to leave some things to your imagination (or not, sorry mom) we may have gotten it on, and I may or may not have stifled laughter for the first bit of the interaction, because all I could think about was him staring at my new mustache.

I fell asleep that night thinking that I was happy I had a partner who I could laugh with about my stupid mustache.  I had a partner who had been with me almost three years and hadn’t noticed it, which could be attributed to inattentiveness, but maybe it’s just really what love is.  Not seeing the flaws in your partner until you get really up close.  Is that what intimacy is?  Kind of rhetorical, unless you wanna PM me.Screenshot 2017-06-26 at 1.53.50 AM



The moral of the story is believe in yourself, and your mustache ladies.  Have confidence in your face and your smile, because you will always have your mustache, but you may not always have your man.  Just kidding. The moral is try and laugh more, and try and send gratitude into the universe for the opportunities we have to laugh at ourselves.