Tag Archives: beauty

Three, Four, Five Week Shadow

The weather is starting to warm up here and I am beginning to be faced with what use to be a difficult question to answer: Should I wear shorts today?

I’m not asking because it might rain or get cloudy but I have a different issue. Most would just tell me to go shower and take care of it but it’s not that easy.

My legs are like a man’s face. Whenever they get shaved or waxed, I can expect the hair to start popping out by the end of the day.

So, guys, I feel your pain and struggle, but here’s the thing, you can’t begin to image mine.

For you, if you don’t shave then there is no harm in that. Now a days, I look around and find that many guys support the “five o’clock shadow” or even the actual beard. One doesn’t typically hear about a guy being harassed or bullied because he has facial hair. Maybe back in high school or middle school when we were all immature but that was just ridiculous. Hair to a guy means that he is maturing and becoming a man.

But, for a chick like me, seeing hair anywhere but on the top of my head and “kitty” is a big NO. Momentarily it’s a sign of maturity but it soon becomes a nuisance.

Most guys I talk to say they don’t care, but society as a whole deems it to be unacceptable. Having a bush is even beginning to fade out as it is often considered to “get in the way.”

Don’t ask me what they mean exactly because as far as I’m concerned, they have a length that can definitely “push through.” Its not like I have dreads down there. Yet, I know a guy would argue the point of going down on a chick and pulling away with “floss.”

Yeah, that is annoying and embarrassing (especially for the chick); but hey, if your chick goes down on you, then consider the fact that she’s shoving however many inches down her throat and trying to hold back a gag or two.

Before I go any further down that rabbit hole, let me make it clear that I’m not here to argue who has it “harder” in the bedroom (or wherever else you have your “fun”). I’m actually just trying to make a point about women and hair, especially hair on one’s legs. So, let’s back track a bit.

Should I wear shorts today?

Simply put, yes I most certainly should. Because, like it or not, I have hair on my legs. I could shave, but I get everything waxed from the waist down every four to five weeks. Personally, waxing lasts a little longer and is a little more effective in weakening the hair follicles.

Granted, I’m going to end up with two or three weeks of noticeable hair on my legs, but I’ll take the compromise.

Don’t click away just yet though. I’m not done.

There are two more factors that makes this question difficult:

1) I have dark colored hair.

2) My hormones are out of whack.

I know some of you may think this is a strange response but let me explain.

The first point is pretty straight forward. Everyone knows that blond chicks or light haired girls have it lucky, because they can go a little longer than us dark haired girls. Their hair tends to blend in a little better with their skin. Us dark haired girls have these tell-tale black/brown lines running across our legs and other problem areas (lips, arms, “kitty”, etc.)

Now, in regards to this second point (or third point depending on how you’re counting), I don’t want to scare you, your girlfriend, wife, or whoever but having a hormonal imbalance can cause abnormal hair growth (as well as other things but this depends on every individual’s condition).

To be specific, having one’s male hormones be slightly higher than normal for a chick can cause abnormal hair growth. For me, this means that the hair on my legs grows back faster, but it also resulted in my little tiny happy trail along my tummy.

Luckily, all the guys I’ve been with (except for one jerk) have all been extremely supportive and did not ridicule me. Though, I do not deny the fact that my current partner (not the jerk) loves to “pet” my legs when they begin to grow out.

At first, I would hide my legs under the covers or wear pants all the time but now I’ve grown more accustomed to it. He’s also a major part of why I’ve come to accept it. (Having been tested for a hormonal imbalance also helped too.)

The point I’m making though is that society and you have to accept who you are. Embrace yourself or anyone who dares to brave the world with their “special” features. It is a part of who they are and I’m fairly certain that there is no on or off switch for how “bad” it appears. Furthermore, I’m pretty darn sure that everyone (even the so-called “perfect” guy/chick you’re crushing on) has some “special” trait.

It’s what makes us unique.

So, instead of suffering from heat stroke this summer, understand that there is more than what the eye sees. The sun doesn’t discriminate who gets to play bare and neither should we.

© 2016 Jessica Santos



He wants me to write
About the bees
How they cease to buzz
How we need to act
Maybe build a farm
Create a complete environment

He says they need certain flowers
Something to do with nutrition
Or surviving the cold
To embrace their full potential
But, he continues to babble

He talks about their reproduction
How they are maternally run
So my mouth opens to respond
But, he carries on

My gaze has shifted though
Outside the window a bee passes
Soon followed by another
They whiz by in a sort of dance
Calling to me
Beckoning to join its picture perfect frame

I tap the glass
Feel its warmth
And while his back is turned
I leap through the screen

© 2016 Jessica Santos

Call for an End, for a Beginning

I don’t typically do this but I’m going to use the cliche “there’s always a first” to start. All of my mentors whether young or old have told me in some form or another that life is a roller coaster. I always believed them and I still do. Not once do I question my mentor’s teachings.

Here’s another cliche: “no one passes through life unscathed.” And one more…”everyone has a story, a lesson, a moral.” So as you can tell or already know, I’m filled with cliches, old sayings and popular teachings of the “golden” days. This isn’t because I’m wise or have experienced the most for a person of my age but I listen.

During the few family gatherings, instead of sitting with the little kids glued to the television, I seek out the individuals conversing, sharing stories and actually having some form of interaction. As I listen to their conversations, I can’t help but smile and revel in where I am.

You know those popular questions that surface when there is doubt?

Am I living my life how I should? Am I missing something? Why haven’t I reached a revelation yet?

Well, I ask myself these questions but it’s all for a waste of time.

In life, I am exactly where I should be, facing the challenges I need to face and dealing with the ups and downs in the best way available for me. What I endure is no less or greater than others, it simply is my own. Everyone gets casted from their family. Everyone gets heartbroken. Everyone receives a life crippling pain. But no one experiences or learns from it in quite the same manner.

When I was a little girl, my parents would push me academically and socially to no end. Eventually, as school grew harder, the importance of academics outweighed my social life and they encouraged a sharper focus on school.

One may begin to think that I ended up “hating” school but what happened was quite the opposite. I ended up loving to learn. I find that a part of being human is to have the ability to learn and grow no matter the age.

Often, my father would sit me down with my brother and we would pour over COLLEGE level textbooks. Don’t get me wrong, it was rough and a struggle and it didn’t help that he would get frustrated like any other and exert his frustration in the form of yelling but I can’t blame him.

Now that I’m a tutor and mentor for others, I understand and feel his frustration but use my experience with him to guide me into being a better teacher for future generations.

However, at the time, those lessons with him were exhausting and purely resulted in me gaining an exuberant amount of knowledge at the price of being afraid.

For years, I worked hard in my academics just to please and satisfy others instead of myself because I didn’t believe in myself. Rather, I believed that I would amount to nothing and go no where.

I was lost, confused and afraid.

Then one day, I got my “Hogwart’s” letter saying I’ve been accepted into some college and it is here where one may think that was the day I stopped feeling lost but no. People congratulated me and said a job well done but I still didn’t believe in myself. I still worked hard for others.

It wasn’t until the end of my second year in college that I began to realize how great I truly am. A grade, a congratulations, a pat on the back was only a fool’s goal. The real goal is in the act of doing and accomplishing.

By working hard, learning, and gaining, I am succeeding. I am getting somewhere.

With this realization, I began to have a voice. I spoke up; but, to my disbelief, by speaking up, I ended up losing several connections that I thought the world of. All summer I lived in a struggle between what I thought was there and what really was there.

As the new school year began, those connections still remained mangled on the floor by my bed in a pool of tears. I started to believe that those connections would remain there but then I received a major accomplishment.

Obviously, the first people I wanted to tell was my partner and my mom but I also wanted to tell the individuals at the end of those crippled bridges. So did I? Nope.

I remained just as stubborn as those individuals who could not accept who I am and what I feel now. Yet, days passed and I found myself thinking back upon them more than I would like to admit.

It wasn’t until one morning I awoke and a voice over my shoulder told me to stop being stubborn and to focus on my own enjoyment that I realized I hadn’t quite learned to live in the moment just yet.

So here I am taking a long winding path to say that I am still learning and I am still hurting but I’m willing to mend. Only this time, it didn’t take fear to teach me this lesson but love.

As my day approaches, I can only hope that my out reached hand won’t be rejected; and once it is grasped those connections will begin to believe in me too. Because, at the end of the day, the life I’ve lived so far is not half bad. It has its ups and downs but more importantly it has its lessons. And it is with those lessons taught by the very people who destroyed those bridges that I have grown to believe in myself. So why not grow with me and believe in myself the way I believe bridges can be mended?

© 2015 Jessica Santos

Clingy: The True Definition for Me

It is with my very mind that I speak but it is with my own true heart that I act. I am clingy and needy of your averting eyes but not because I need you. Do not begin to believe that you are the center of my world. But begin to know these very words I speak for they are honest and true far beyond any other:

With words, they often enter upon existence only to be left forgotten and abused. Yet with your assertive attention, my actions match what I say and it is then that these words take root.

So to those who dare announce of my constant demand for attention, I thank for taking note. You have either recognized this to be true or you take note that the physicality of presence is far more important to me than an imagined hint or assumption. It is not to say that I lack trust or belief but I prefer a constant, direct, straightforward affair between individuals in my life. Life is far too great to spend questioning every aspect; instead, it should be spent enjoying the opportunities that are brought forward.

(With this in mind, simply take note and not to heart of what I say because the fact that I’m sharing this means that I obviously do care to some degree.)

To extend on my thought, I could care less for your calming assuring voice through a phone. It is not what I want nor what I need. But a moment of touch, of caress, of contact holds deeper truth, deeper meaning. In your very presence, I see the answers I seek, I feel YOUR true assurance, not that of a phone call or of a ghostly voice that echoes in my head.

For with one’s voice, one can turn into either the greatest or worst actor/actress imaginable where both possibilities only lead to further questioning, doubt, confusion and especially frustration.

One may counter to be entirely honest with another. However, many see difficulty in expressing the absolute truth because even they do not fully understand or comprehend exactly what they feel. No one does and to say they do is a lie in and of itself. Emotions are that of a thousand masks on a Halloween night in which they are constantly morphing into another as the light source changes from moon to street lamp to sheathed window to darkness.

The best way to receive absolute honesty is to see with one’s own eyes the ultimate mask which is the “Feeler’s” face and actions. Only in complete physical presence can one see a tear shed, frustration thwarted and happiness elated.

(Please note, as we are all animals with senses, there is always a story one wishes to share even if it may be dull to one and relieving to another. It is best to take part in this natural form of humanity and bare witness to an individual’s advancement of understanding or confusion so that one may encourage or discourage a thought, process or idea before one’s private mind twists the story into a demon of its own.)

With this said, I avert my attention back to my original statement of declaring my “clinginess” and beg of you to conclude with me this lasting impression. I assert the truth that physical confrontation is best in dealing with the heart’s matters. Therefore, if I demand your presence, then take my request not in annoyance or frustration. Rather, be pleased that I wish to be with you because it only means that I desire for you to see my absolute truth in which I only show to those I deeply consider. For though I may toy with words to great lengths, my actions are my words greatest muse and it is there that one sees absolute truth.

© 2015 Jessica Santos