oh the pain of it all!

Women love to sit together and talk of pain - the pain of delivering a baby, the pain of getting a bikini wax done, the pain of living with a nasty mother-in-law, the pain of dealing with a wayward husband...but nothing can beat the pain of extracting blackheads.

I experienced this pain only recently and the memory is still fresh in my mind. Beauticians don’t warn you of what you’re in for when you go in for a facial. The funny thing is, I’ve been through this experience before, but I think the brain has a weird way of erasing some past painful experiences or atleast diminishing their impact, so much so that you start believing that maybe it’s wasn’t THAT bad to begin with. So, the poor victim (me) goes in thinking that all i have to do is wear a white gown, listen to soothing music, get a nice massage and come out looking like a freshly plucked rose. But wait...don’t let this image fool you because you don’t know what dangerous paths you have to trek before you become a rose...the path of blackhead removal!

What is a blackhead? A nasty, small ball of dirt which is embedded in your skin that needs to be removed. Yes NEEDS to be removed. It’s like a monster the prince has to kill in order to reach the long-haired princess captured in the castle. So the beautician casually picks up her sword (blackhead remover) and plunges in your skin, all the while talking to you pleasantly, discussing ordinary things like the weather. Remember: she has primed you and your skin for this moment, but you are completely unaware of what is it to come. You have had your massage, your skin has been steamed, plumped, soothed...the lights are low, the music is slow, the air conditioning is on...and then, the moment of truth arrives: do you have what it takes to go through a facial and emerge a beauty?

The first attack is the worst, especially if it’s on the bridge of the nose. You writhe in pain. The first thoughts that cross your mind are: OH. MY. GOD. Then she retreats. And you relax a little bit. But then she touches your face again, takes a plump bit of skin between her fingers and innnnn goes the remover. You scream a little. She smiles. She knows how painful it is and she knows you can’t do much because once you have started this process, you want it to end, you can’t ask her to stop, you might as well get it over with. Your nose starts itching and you feel like sneezing but you can’t, for fear of spraying the beautician with mucus. Ugh. How unpleasant that would be and how un-ladylike you would look, so you hold your sneeze and pray to God that this torture ends soon.

The nose is the most painful area, especially the tip. Or so you thought. By the time she is done with the tip and you think the worst is over, she moves to the sides. Ohhhhhhhhhh. Your heels dig in the bed and your eyes water. When will this torture end? Why oh why were you born with blackheads? "Everyone has them, you just need to get them removed frequently", she says as if she can read your mind. REMOVE THEM FREQUENTLY!???! Are you out of your frikkin’ mind?!? Go through this torture AGAIN, REGULARLY, ONCE EVERY MONTH!? No way!

She keeps talking all the while, telling you about her different clients, how rejuvinated they feel after they’re through with their facials, etc etc etc. All you can think about is, ok, now she’s on my cheeks, now my chin..my CHINNN...Ohhh..who would’ve thought the chin had so many nerve endings? You grip the sides of the bed, holding your breath, till you realize your nose is clogged and you can’t hold your breath for long.

"There, all done!", triumphantly she puts down the steel remover and starts putting soothing, oh so soothing, lotion on your face and your heart starts beating normally again.

You start forgetting the torture you went through as the next 15 minutes pass, as you get a little more of the massage, then the mask, the rose water dipped eye pads...before you leave, you get another appointment for next month.