The hair (and skin) didn’t come back for a while. After many more bathroom self-massacres and a little thought, I no longer injured myself when I shaved. But my mother had been right. The hair did grow back thicker and coarser. That’s why, when I glimpsed my mother shaving her upper lip (!!), I didn’t do the same thing.
In college, I went through a period of letting all my hair go, and grow, everywhere. By now my mother said my hairy legs were “disgusting” and insisted I wear pants or long skirts. She asked me if I wanted to borrow her old razor (I swear it was the same one). But I was done with razors. I decided to try waxing. But that’s another story.
