My partner, Mike, is quite the hairy fellow. With a thick mane of chest, back, and arm hair, plus a lumberjack-style beard, he’s definitely not lacking in the fur department. Over the 13 years we’ve been together, his hair situation has escalated. While he once had just a sprinkle of chest hair—much to my teasing about its Florida-like shape—now it’s a full-on pelt that he affectionately refers to as his “fur coat.”
The downside to all this hair? Ingrown hairs. Those sneaky little strands often decide to grow sideways instead of up, leading to swollen bumps, bacteria build-up, and ultimately, whiteheads. Mike can manage the ones on his chest, but those pesky spots on his back? That’s where I come in.
I remember the first time I took on this rather unromantic task. We were still in our early dating days when I spotted a large, yellowish-whitehead on his shoulder. It felt like it was taunting me. “Um, you have a giant zit on your back,” I pointed out, and though he was embarrassed, he reluctantly agreed to let me help. I’ll never forget his reaction when I squeezed; let’s just say he didn’t exactly squeal, but his voice did rise a notch.
From that moment on, I became the designated whitehead eliminator. In our younger days, with his hair still in full bloom, my services were often called upon. I would have him lie down while I took care of everything from tiny zits to larger offenders. It might not have been the most romantic activity, but it provided me with a strange sense of satisfaction.
Over time, as his hair settled into a more manageable state, the frequency of his backne diminished. However, when a whitehead does make an appearance, it still draws my attention. Fast forward to today, and the tables have turned. Hormonal changes have given me blackheads—a new addition to my skin woes. Since I work out frequently, I find them popping up in the most inconvenient places. Now, it’s Mike who sneaks up on me, asking me to “hold still” while he works his magic.
Despite the unglamorous nature of this task, it has surprisingly deepened our connection. We’ve become comfortable with each other’s bodies in ways that go beyond the superficial. There’s a certain intimacy in being able to care for one another, no matter how gross it may seem. We joke that it’s a sign of love, and while it’s a playful quip, there’s truth in it.
So tonight, as I wrap up my day, I’ll likely find myself tackling a zit on Mike’s back. He’s already tackled my blackheads, after all. And if we’re being honest, these little moments are part of what keeps our relationship thriving.
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Summary:
In this light-hearted confession, Jamie shares how she became the unofficial pimple-popper for her partner, Mike. Over the years, this quirky dynamic has fostered a unique bond between them, proving that love can manifest in unexpected, and sometimes unglamorous, ways.