The first time through puberty I got incredibly lucky. I had great skin, from day one through the bitchy days of middle school and the angst-ridden days of high school. Acne was never a major problem, except sometimes on the backs of my arms. But my face? I rarely got zits. My back, never. So here is a demonic duck to express my frustration.
I knew that acne would come with T. I knew that, I had been told that, and naively thought because I got so lucky the first time through that it would be the same this time. S and C are probably shaking their heads, laughing at me, because even though I have been dealing the worst acne of my life, it isn’t that bad. I haven’t felt the need to go to the dermatologist, so long as I scrub my face a few times a day with acne wash, and every other day with a deeper exfoliant.
No, the pet peeve are zits just inside my nostril. They hurt. Moreover, I have pretty terrible allergies, and so every time I blow my nose, it hurts even more.
It drives me crazy. It annoys me endlessly, or at least until it goes away again. I know I’m lucky, I’ve never needed Accutane, and I still barely get break outs on my back. My arms have also been calm this time through, so that’s better than last time. I know I’m lucky but it is still driving me crazy. Because it isn’t angering, it is incredibly annoying, constant, and every time one goes away, within a week another one appears at my nostrils. Recurring, highly frustrating… yup, pet peeve of T.
Generally speaking, acne also makes shaving a pain in the ass. Or perhaps more accurately it is a pain in the face, as it makes cutting so much more likely. Shaving is difficult enough, but adding painful bumps I have to dodge just makes it worse. At least I have some whiskers to shave, right? Still…
I’m at the point where I actually do need to shave every week. Not that I have enough facial hair to grow anything worthwhile, not even to get the “scruffy” kind of look. But if I don’t shave every week, I have those awkward hairs sticking out, just enough to be able to say to myself “Look how much more I have!” but not enough to actually grow anything like sideburns or a mustache.
I want sideburns. Not giant Elvis style mutton-chop sideburns, but some small sideburns that drop down and help masculinize my face. Slash, it would make it a lot easier to square them off if my hairline didn’t end at the top of my ears. I feel like it looks weird on me. I want sideburns already dammit!
But unlike my brother, that isn’t where my facial hair is coming in the quickest. Rather, the fastest coming in is my (hopefully to be) mustache. I can’t really complain. I want the ability to grow a nice, carefully groomed, ‘stache. Ideally, it won’t be a creepy one, but the sibling rivalry side of me really wants to have a mustache, as my oldest brother can only now just barely grow one. One up him on something, as he is much taller, stronger, bigger, and has less hair. I defiantly beat him on the hair on top of my head bit…
Everywhere else, my hair is coming in thicker, and darker. My legs are the most noticeable, there is a lot more, and a lot thicker. Staring at my ass every week for my injection, I notice the increase there as well. Even on my chest, there is more fuzz, though it is all still blonde (in rather stark contrast to my very dark hair.) But my face? I feel like it’s the turtle in the race against the rabbit, but I have yet to find out if there is going to be any winning with it.
Because regardless, I want more, because I’m at the point where I do need to think about shaving regularly. And if I have to be shaving, I want it to at least be worth it.
Been a busy week, and looking at another one ahead of me. But some exciting new developments!
My voice actually cracked last week. In a room full of witnesses, which needless to say caused all my friends to give me some good-natured teasing that I saw as much overdue. Because it FINALLY cracked. It’s dropping more and more. THANK YOU FULL DOSE!
My legs are getting more hairy, as is my ass. The later I noticed when doing my injections, each week I just see more hair there, because otherwise I admit, I don’t look at my ass all that much. My arms aren’t any noticeably hairier, nor is my stomach. I don’t’ think my back is, but that is more S’s area.
There is so much I want to say, and quite a few entries I’ve started but haven’t had the time to do them the justice of making them good enough. What is amazing to me is that I’m doing so well, and yet writing so much. I’m not writing because shit is going wrong, I’m frustrated that I don’t have more time to do what I want, from writing to seeing S more. Because for once, I’m in a happy, healthy relationship. I’m writing things that interest me in here, not about how my life is falling apart. Testosterone has been going really well. Etc. etc. etc.
Regardless, there are some entries coming, ones that probably contain ideas that aren’t going to be as popular as some of the things I’ve written.
My goal for this blog was roughly 3 updates per month, knowing how bad I am at keeping stuff like this up. I’m proud to have surpassed my expectations.
Shaving was never something I looked forward to. It is the unfortunate by-product of facial hair, which is something I have not only been looking forward to but am anxiously awaiting it to arrive. Some people never really grow much facial hair, cisguys, transguys, whoever. I hope that I will not be one of them, who after years and years of trying, can’t get anything more than a patchy, scraggly excuse for… well… anything. Looking at my family, I probably don’t have anything to worry about. Either way it ends up going, I’ve been scanning my face frequently for signs of whiskers, or bad acne, one with hope, the other with resigned dread. So far, I’ve actually been lucky on both counts.
But was it really a whisker or two? Or even more that were coming in? I couldn’t be certain, because some of it may just have been wishful thinking on my part. Thus, I decided to shave.
This morning was not the first time I’ve shaved my face, nor will it be the last. I do not like it. Maybe I had that enamoured “Holy crap, I’m shaving my face” the first or second time I did it, but despite the fact that “peach fuzz” detracts from ‘passing’ I quickly avoided shaving. I quit shaving my legs, after a few arguments with my mother over this, for one simple reason: it took way too much time. Gender only really factored in with respect to the fact that I had no reason TO shave, other than appeasing my mother. Smooth legs can be fun, regardless of gender presentation. Back to my face, however, I decided to shave to see how much of what I was seeing was me looking with rose-tinted glasses, and how much was genuine. Shaving one’s face may cover less area, may not involve having to navigate annoying things like knees and ankles, but is far more annoying and difficult. If it was just about ease of shaving, and time, I’d take legs over face any day.
At least, my shaving cream and razor seem to do the trick without too much in the way of razor burn or other such unfortunate things. Maybe it’s because I only shave on rare occasions, but so far the double-bladed razor and the cream are quite great. Though the razor was originally a pain in the ass to find, as I wanted only two blades, not three or four. I mean, I didn’t even have whiskers, there is no reason for me to be scraping up my skin that much. Though one of these days I should get an aftershave balm. Gotta look into that…
I’ll update more on the whisker results are once I’ve had a chance to figure it out myself.
In other news, very little physical changes to update on, other than quite mild acne, but still a step up from before. Still same-ish sizes, and thus I’m assuming height and weight as well. One of the most important things will be tested this week, namely whether or not I get my period. Here’s to hoping it shall not arrive.