• Brooke Christian

Recently I had what men would refer to as a “feminine issue.” I idiotically tried to give myself a Brazilian bikini wax. In my bathroom. Alone. With cold, store bought wax. Bending in positions even contortionists can’t manage.

Did I get baby smooth skin? Was I blissfully hair free like Carrie Bradshaw in that famous episode in SATC? Sorta. But oh boy oh boy did I get something so much more: a shredded up vagina. We’re talking a labia tear of such epic proportions that the doctor gasped when she saw it. Awesome.


The idiocy of this decision is compounded by the fact that most of the hair on my vaj is lasered off. I’ve spent two years and umpteen dollars to make it as prepubescent as possible. Glitch? Despite my best efforts to thwart the aging process with injections of botulism into my face, some of my pubes tell my real age: lots of them are grey. And if you know anything about the laser process, you know it doesn’t work on light hair. So while I’m 80% bare, there’s still a niggling 20% that clings on and pisses the crap out of me.


Normally I shave these pesky hanger-oners. But for some godforsaken reason, I thought it might be a good idea to wax them. Spend $80 at a professional salon like I used to? Nah, that would be completely frivolous given the amount of money I’d paid on blazing hot flashes of light. Can you see me rolling my eyes in hindsight? I am. They’re practically looking at my brain.


Which is how I found myself on the bathroom floor bleeding my crotch off and nearly passing out from looking at it. I’ve done some stupid stuff in my life but this might take the cake. Mainly because it was TOTALLY AVOIDABLE. The self loathing was real.


First, I was trying to get advice about healing times, to find out if an ER visit was necessary (yes, pictures were sent for that one), and to get some empathy from someone who might’ve had the same thing once before. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it before now. That’s how many people I told.


Why the megaphone? Because it was funny as hell. I mean, I managed to have two children and keep my privates completely in tact. Two kids! Perfect vagina! Then I gotta go and try to save some cash and subsequently rip it to shreds. When the doctor says it’s a common tear in childbirth, you want to smack yourself for being a complete idiot. Saved by c-sections. Destroyed by a Nads waxing kit. Oh the irony.


It healed within a week. Thankfully that area fixes itself quickly. But the trauma remains. And it honestly gave me a new appreciation for what moms who deliver vaginally have to deal with: the pain, the embarrassment, the low likelihood that they’ll look the same once it’s all healed. I never considered all that before my bloodbath and I gotta say, to the all the mamas who delivered with someone’s head between their legs, I raise a glass to you. Or a spray bottle for when you pee. I have one now if anyone needs to borrow it.

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contact: brooke@saamofficial.com