As someone who prefers a low-key lifestyle, I typically find myself working from home in comfy yoga pants with holes and oversized sweaters. For special occasions, I might don real pants and dab on a bit of makeup—usually just some lipstick and maybe mascara if I’m feeling fancy. Luckily, my skin has always been decent, so I tend to skip foundation and blush.
Hair maintenance has never been a big deal for me either. I manage to get by with shaving only the lower parts of my legs and armpits every few days during the summer months. My eyebrows are naturally thick, which I appreciate, but I’ve never had to deal with a unibrow, sideburns, or a mustache—until recently.
About two weeks ago, something shifted. The fine hairs above my upper lip, which were typically so light they were almost invisible, suddenly darkened significantly. I was taken aback. What on earth is going on here? Turning 38 this winter felt like a cruel reminder that I’m inching closer to 40, and I’ve been spotting more gray hairs among my locks than ever before. Every time I pulled my hair back into my usual bun, it felt like a new wave of grays had invaded.
When I first noticed the mustache, I jokingly wondered if the lost pigment from my scalp hair was somehow migrating to my facial hair. Logically, that makes no sense, but neither does the sudden emergence of a dark mustache.
As a teenager, I briefly thought I had a mustache while peering into my mom’s magnifying mirror. I spotted those fine hairs everyone has above their lips and convinced myself they were glaringly obvious. In a moment of sheer panic, I attempted to shave them off with my mother’s pink razor. I barely made any progress before I nicked myself, and the sight of my own blood sent me running from the task.
I always believed that the small area I had shaved grew back darker than the surrounding hair, which made me relieved I hadn’t gone further. The hair above my lip never became a concern until a few weeks ago, when it suddenly demanded my attention. I initially tried to dismiss it, thinking it might be a figment of my imagination, but it became impossible to ignore—in mirrors and photos, it was there.
Finally, I resolved to do something about it. The thought of using a razor again terrified me, and I was equally apprehensive about waxing due to fear of regrowth. Instead, I opted for “crème bleach,” a product that sounded fancy but came with its own set of uncertainties. I didn’t share my plan with anyone, as it felt embarrassing, and I worried the bleach might make things worse. The last thing I wanted was a bright white mustache to replace my dark one.
So, on a quiet Saturday night while my husband was at a family gathering and the kids were asleep, I bravely experimented with the bleaching kit. It stung a bit more than the instructions indicated, making me reconsider, but I pressed on. When it was all said and done, the results were surprisingly satisfying. The bleach lightened the hair back to its previous color, and thankfully, my skin remained intact despite the initial sting.
When my husband returned, I excitedly shared my experience, only to learn that he hadn’t even noticed my mustache in the first place—note to self: men can be quite oblivious. However, I did notice that my upper lip skin had darkened slightly, which I later learned could be melasma. Thankfully, there are creams available to lighten that up, and I know I need to be more diligent with my sunscreen.
As I navigate this unexpected phase of aging, I’ve been warned that the mustache may be just the beginning—friends have forewarned me about the inevitable chin hairs. Fantastic.
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In summary, aging comes with unexpected changes—like an uninvited mustache. While I navigated my concerns with a bit of humor and a bleaching kit, I learned that these changes are part of the journey. Embracing them, while seeking out helpful resources and advice, is key to facing the future with confidence.