How I Silenced My High School Bully… and My Facial Hair… In Less Than 21 Days

Every morning, it’s the same dreaded ritual.

I lean in close to the mirror, hoping today will be different.

But no matter how much I pluck, shave, or pray - there it is.

That stubborn stubble sprouting along my chin and upper lip.

And just when I thought nothing could make it worse… it did.

Last month, at my 30-year high school reunion, I spotted it - a cluster of black dots poking through my foundation under the harsh ballroom lights.

Before I could swipe at it with my compact, I heard that unmistakable laugh behind me.

"You always were hairier than most girls..."

Sarah Miller. The same girl who crowned me "Mustache Girl" back in ninth grade - and never let me forget it.

Standing there, I felt like I was 16 years old all over again.

The shame. The humiliation. The desperate urge to run and hide.

In my 20s and 30s, it became manageable - a quick swipe with a razor here, a few plucks there.

But once menopause set in, it was like my face turned against me overnight, just like it had when I was a teen.

Dark, coarse hairs sprouted faster than I could catch them.

Foundation couldn’t hide it. Concealer made it SO much worse.

I stopped taking selfies. I dreaded hugs from friends, afraid they'd feel the sandpaper scrape of my chin.

Even video calls with family became a source of anxiety. I'd angle the camera just right, hoping the shadows would hide the worst of it.

But I couldn’t hide from myself.

So I attacked the issue with renewed determination. Look, I didn’t want to miss out! You only get one high school reunion.

I tried everything:

● Shaving twice a day (which only made it grow back thicker)
● Expensive waxing (that left my skin raw and red)
● Tweezing (hours of painful, tedious plucking)

Nothing worked. Nothing lasted.

I was ready to cancel. Ready to hide away, like I had so many times before. But my husband convinced me to go - he said the hair wasn’t noticeable, so I plucked up my courage and went.

I kept to the outskirts of the party, thinking that staying in the shadows and away from the crowd would keep my stubble from getting noticed. 

But fate - and Sarah Miller of all people - had other plans.

She shook her head and pulled something sleek and shiny from her clutch - a little white device that looked more like a luxury lipstick than anything else.

“It’s called Pluxy,” she said. “It doesn’t cut the hair - it pulls it out from the root. That’s why my skin stays smooth for weeks, not hours.”

I blinked at her, confused. “But doesn’t that hurt? Like waxing?”

“Way less,” she grinned. “And no sticky mess, no redness, no razor burn. Plus, it actually slows the hair from growing back.”

I stared at her flawless, fuzz-free jawline in awe.

This was Sarah Miller - my lifelong nemesis - letting me in on her secret weapon.

Maybe she wasn’t just lucky - popular, gorgeous, smooth-skinned - after all.
Maybe she just knew something I didn’t.

As soon as I got home that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Pluxy.

Was it really that easy? Could it really be that different? Was this just Sarah trying to sabotage me again for old times’ sake?

I curled up with my laptop and started researching.

Turns out, Pluxy wasn’t some random gadget - it had been featured in a ton of beauty publications as the top at-home solution for women’s facial hair.

Thousands of five-star reviews. Women saying things like, “I finally feel seen,” and “This changed my life.”

And, much to my paranoid heart’s content…

A 90-day money-back guarantee.

If it didn’t work, I could send it back.
But if it did work…

For the first time in a long, long time, I felt that little flutter of hope in my chest.

Maybe my reflection didn’t have to be a battlefield anymore.

They were made for thick, coarse male facial hair - not the delicate, sensitive skin of a woman’s face.

Shaving doesn’t just cut the hair - it leaves sharp, jagged edges that make regrowth faster, rougher, and even more noticeable.

No wonder I could never win.

Meanwhile, Pluxy worked completely differently.

Instead of slicing hair off at the surface, it gently pulled it out from the root - weakening the follicle over time, so hair grew back slower, finer, and softer.

Plus, it was specifically engineered for women’s faces - soft, sensitive, hormonal, and aging skin included.

Reading that, I didn’t feel silly for struggling anymore.

I felt angry - and smarter.

Because now, finally, I could do something better.

I started sleeping better - not tossing and turning, worrying about new whiskers popping up overnight.

I smiled wider when I passed my reflection.

I even started letting my grandkids touch my face again without flinching.

It’s like years of shame, embarrassment, and hiding just melted away.

All thanks to my biggest bully. The girl who made my high school years MISERABLE. Who’d have thought?

If it could work this easily for me after decades of battling hormonal hair, maybe it could work for you, too.

No more wasting $60 at the salon for painful waxing.

No more worrying about canceling plans because of a rogue chin hair.

Pluxy’s patented technology is gentle on delicate skin, easy to clean, and built to last, giving you a luxury experience without the luxury price tag.

It’s self-care, convenience, and empowerment, all rolled into one little device.

Now I decide when and how I want to take care of myself.

Before I ordered, I read review after review from women who sounded just like me:

By the way, you don’t have to say yes to Pluxy just yet.

All I’m suggesting is you give it a try. Try it risk-free for 90 days...

And if you don’t feel the difference - if you’re not seeing smooth, shadow-free skin without the panic and daily plucking - you’ll get every penny back. No questions asked.

Just think about it…

A single facial waxing appointment can cost $75… and you have to do it every few weeks.

Laser treatments are thousands of dollars, and no guarantee it’ll even work for you.

Disposable razors, depilatory creams, endless tweezing - it all adds up, both in cost and confidence lost.

But none of those old methods offer you a real guarantee.

They just expect you to pay… and hope for the best.

You deserve better.

If you use Pluxy for just a few minutes a week…

If you finally get to look in the mirror and see smooth, radiant skin again…

If you finally stop dreading dates, reunions, vacations, and close-up conversations…

If you finally feel free…

Then I hope you’ll remember today as the day everything changed.

And if not…

If for any reason you don’t feel the transformation…

You’ll get a 100% refund. 

All you have to do is contact their friendly support team.

The way I see it, there’s nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Smooth skin. Renewed confidence. A face that feels like you again.

It’s your turn, beautiful!