My friend and fellow Taurus told me to go to her girl at her salon for my first Brazilian bikini wax. I was five minutes late (obviously) and the bikini waxer was waiting for me in the lobby. The salon was very serene and soothing so I thought maybe I was in for a kind of relaxing experience. LOLLLLLLL. I followed the waxer into a brightly lit, small windowless room where there was a sterile doctor’s table covered in paper, waiting for my vagina.

“So just take your pants off and lie on the table with your head here,” she said.

“And my underwear?”

“Are you doing a Brazilian?”

“Yes. It’s my first time so I’m a little scared.”

“Okay,” she said. “Your underwear, too. No need to be scared.”

So you hop up on the table wearing a bra and a t-shirt and nothing else and the waxer starts some friendly conversation. “Where are you from, what do you do,” etc. You fold your legs Indian style, lying flat on the table. Open faced vagina, brightly lit room, perfect stranger, dead sober — worst combo on Earth.

Now’s a good time to tell you ladies that all of your women friends are liars. “It’s not that bad,” “You’ll be fine,” and “It’s quick,” are all lies — it is that bad, you might cry, and it actually takes about 10 minutes.

The salon I went to used the self-drying wax — the esthetician applies it, it becomes tacky, and then she rips it off. After she rips off a strip, she places her hand back on the spot she just waxed and applies a moderate amount of pressure so your skin stops stinging. If she did not do this, I think I would have fainted. Not even being dramatic.

She started with the outer thigh, which, if you’ve ever waxed another part of your body, it’s pretty similar on the pain scale. It hurts, but it’s not excruciating. Then she moved to the “top,” AKA where the landing strip goes. This is the most painful part. I don’t know what the kind of nerve endings are on top of your pubic bone, but seems like evolution went a little overboard, IMHO. When you think about it though, it’s almost as if human females weren’t meant to get our pubes torn out one by one???? Like that hair is there for a reason, as an evolutionary trait designed to protect a fragile part of our bodies????? LOL gross!

So this stranger woman is spreading this warm wax all over your labia majora and she’s talking to you about vacations and Lady Gaga and I’m going to tell you what I wish someone told me — you sweat so much. You are sweating like you just ran two miles. Your hands are sweating and your face is sweating and your upper lip is sweating and your torso is sweating. And you are flinching at everything.

Then she starts getting pretty intimate re: location. Very seriously close to your vulva. THIS IS THE LEAST OF YOUR CONCERNS. This woman DGAF about the proximity of her hands to your weiner hole. This woman is ripping your pubic hair out of your body — you kind of wish there was some fingering going on just to make the situation more bearable.

So she keeps going back for more wax. And then more wax. AND THEN MORE WAX. And you can’t see what’s going on. She’s going from lips to top to lips to sides and you’re like, “How much hair is down there? When will this end? I should have worn a sweatband. Why can’t I just have alopecia? :(“

Then. THEN. There was one strip of wax, again on that top part near the pube bone, and as soon as it came off, my eyes instantly teared up. I began to cry. I cried during my first Brazilian wax. And it’s not like, “Oh man, this headache is so unbearable.” It’s like when you’re little and you bite it on your bike out of nowhere and you just start crying. Your body doesn’t know what to do. Your body’s in fight or flight!! FIGHT OR FLIGHT!!! It’s trying to survive!!!!

So you’re sweating, screaming, crying, wincing, and flinching at every movement this woman is making and yet still trying to keep your cool while telling her about this job interview you’re going on and your grandma’s 85th birthday party. Then the angels open the gates: “Okay! We’re done! …now flip over.”

I didn’t believe any of my girlfriends who told me the butthole part didn’t hurt, but they were right. After a stranger rips the first layer of your clitoris off and you’ve sweat through your bra and you’re apologizing profusely for crying minutes after meeting this woman and baring your spread eagle vagina to her, by the time she gets to the butthole hair, it feels like a walk in the park. I could honestly have my butthole hair ripped out every day. Not even a cat scratch, folks. Like, if the entire Brazilian wax felt like the butthole section, pubes would have already been phased out by evolution.

Then you’re for real done, you apologize again, she confirms that you’re not alone in the crying category (but still, e__e), and to “make sure to come back!”

Brazlian waxes hurt. Very badly. As bad or worse as you imagine (NOT LESS). I would try to be drunk or on oxycodone during your first one.