by The Beauty Queen from Mars

She thought that she was alone in her weirdness until she found the Dear Abby article, but even after doing research online, she never fully understood why she did it or if she could ever stop. The search was soothing, it calmed her frazzled nerves, and she felt such sweet release when the offending hair was plucked. She was always grateful that she didn't have it as bad as those poor souls she read about; the ones who plucked from more noticeable areas and ended up going bald, forced to shop for wigs to hide their shame. At least she could keep her need satiated with just her eyebrows and eyelashes, occasionally an arm hair or two; for a while she even cut back to just pruning her brows. Until one day life got so bad that something inside snapped. Now she spends her time trying to convince herself that she can stop, while her fingers thoroughly search her scalp, hoping to find satisfaction by removing the kinky strands and praying that she doesn't find a bald spot.


The Beauty Queen from Mars has spent the past 26 years trying to adjust to life on Earth (and is still struggling). She keeps her sanity by writing her own Modern Fairy Tale.