Dear Razor

Creative and apt thoughts… an the razor… #RazorMustFall 😉


You sit in my bathroom, blue and soft and sleek and curvaceous. Urging, almost begging me to use you. You were created well – so well. I was tricked into buying you. I was 13 years old when I shaved my legs for the first time. I was at my best girlfriend’s house. I remember the event like one remembers a car crash. I remember the cheap razor, angry and offensive in my little  brown hand. My mother was horrified.

The deed was done. At first it was fun. All these new things were flying into my pubescent world. First kisses, first pink drinks, first push-up bra, first g-string. All of these new things. They all needed each other and I needed them. No one understood how much I needed them. “God, Mom, you don’t understand. You’re too old!” (13 year old Thola then storms out of the kitchen with…

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