Despite what my husband thinks or what my previous occupation would lead you to believe, I am a very low maintenance woman. I’m not sure if there is a litmus test to prove this and really all of my evidence is circumstantial, but I’m pretty sure of it nonetheless.
I mean, it’s not science or anything, but when it comes to the standards by which we measure maintenance these days, I’m pretty low on the scale. I don’t get manicures or pedicures, like, ever. And not only do I not get them, I also don’t even paint my nails. I don’t color my hair anymore and my skincare is minimal and basic, though I am realistic enough to recognize that as I near 40 this may have to change. I wear little to no make up, because, let’s face it, life is too short to be trying to make magic out of mortality. And when it comes to clothes, well after I stopped being forced to dress up for work on the daily, I’m in my grove in just a t-shirt, jeans and converse. Nothing fancy, but perfect for me.
See, pretty low key.
But there is one area, one tiny part of my routine, that I will not let go of even if you try and pry it out of my cold, dead hands.
And that area is my eyebrows. I will not stop getting my eyebrows done. EVER. I’ll be 95 in the nursing home and still be doing this. It will be a stipulation in my funeral plan: “Do not bury with wonky eyebrows or I will haunt you forever.”
And it’s so stupid, really. Because it’s not that big of a deal. The reason why I can’t stop/won’t stop has nothing to do with what my eyebrows actually look like (though they are my wonkiest feature) and everything to do with an old childhood scar.
When I was a kid my eyebrows were insane. I had this weird little eyebrow flip thing going on over on one side that made me look like my eyebrow was permanently raised, totally uneven, and not a little unlike Satan. 
I’m serious. No amount of taming or combing or gelling would keep that baby down. And even at a very young age I was wildly (and overly) aware of how weird it was. And it bothered me.
It didn’t wreck my life or anything. I mean, I was still a kid and not a teen, after all. But then, one day, a kid in my class broke out in tears because she was afraid to sit next to me.
True story, folks. She absolutely refused to sit next to me. BECAUSE OF MY EYEBROWS.
And do you want to know how I responded to this humiliation in all of my second grade angst and impulsiveness? I cut the heck out of my wonky brow. Yes, in response to her actual tears I took actual scissors and hacked away at my eyebrow.
In my mind this is a very dramatic scene, like in a movie, where I pedal my banana-seat bike home through woods in the rain while crying soft sobs of despair, gripping tightly to the streamered handlebars the whole way, running into the bathroom when I get home to hack away, still crying, while 80’s music plays in the background. Never mind that I rode a bus, it probably wasn’t raining, and I was too young to understand the value of good background music.
But, I digress.
In truth, I don’t remember the actual carnage. I don’t know how I cut it or where I was. But I do know that the memory of why has stuck with me forever. And you know what else has stuck? My wonky brow. Only now it doesn’t really go up as much as just pause, a gash in the middle of my eyebrow cut away, never to return again.
So I’m sensitive about it. I wear very little makeup, yet you will almost never see me in public without this part filled in. I have bangs and I like hats. Now you know why. It’s a weird little hang up that I can’t seem to let go of, even after 30 years.
I recognize that I have a very dramatic imagination and tendency towards the insane, but I do think that most of us have weird hang-ups about ourselves that come from even weirder places. I have beautiful friends who are perfect and wonderful and gorgeous yet are hung up on arm fat that doesn’t exist, chin hair that no one notices, cowlicks that can’t be seen, and uneven nostrils that no one on earth would glance at. I’ve got friends who seem like they have everything together yet never go without makeup, not because they’re high maintenance, but rather because they’re overly self-conscious about old acne scars.
Somehow, childhood scars and insecurities are the toughest to get rid of. They cut deep, even the absurd ones, and they stick around. I’m 5’4″ and very slight, yet still believe to this day that I am larger than most people on this earth because of childhood taunting (you can read this story here). It’s weird how no matter how far we’ve come in life, how evolved or successful we feel, old scars are the hardest to move past. 
And maybe that’s ok. Because those scars made us. They formed us. But they don’t have to be negative. I’ve grown a lot since second grade (I hope) and there’s no more tears or sadness, though the 80s music has manged to stick around. Truthfully, even as I’m religiously filling them in or getting them done, I don’t even really think about it. It’s just something I’ve got and I work around it. It’s not hindering me or bringing me down. In fact, looking at it now, it actually is pretty funny and it makes me laugh at my sweet little second grade dramatic self.
So today friends….I’m not filling in my brows. Just for you. I’m going to wear my wonkiness out in the open with love. Because that’s what makes me me. Yes, I’ll probably get my brows threaded until I die, it’s just my thing. But I’m not sad about the fact that that’s my thing now.
I own it. And maybe we all should too.
And in honor of this story, I am sharing a delicious recipe as low maintenance as my beauty routine. I posted a cilantro lime shrimp recipe a while back that was a copycat of a beloved Costco item and one of my friends requested that I try to copy their now defunct Sweet Chili Shrimp. As a full disclaimer, I’ve never had their Sweet Chili Shrimp so I can’t be sure I nailed it, but even if I didn’t, this stuff is pretty good. Sweet Chili Sauce is an easy item to find, most chain groceries will have it in their Asian section, but it’s so much better when dressed up with some lime and sugar. Perfect in lettuce wraps, over rice noodles, or just flying solo, these are your next new obsession–I Promise.
Peace, love, and perfect brows,
Meg
Sweet Chili Lime Shrimp
Ingredients
- 1 LB large shrimp, peeled and deveined
- 1/4 Sweet Chili Sauce
- Zest and juice of 1 lime
- 2 cloves garlic, finely minced
- 1 tablespoon coconut sugar (sub brown sugar)
Directions
- Step 1 In a small bowl, mix together the sweet chili sauce, lime zest and juice, garlic and sugar. Set aside.
- Step 2 Pat the shrimp until completely dry on both sides. Season with salt and pepper.
- Step 3 In a large skillet, heat a drizzle of olive oil (about 2 teaspoons) over medium high heat.
- Step 4 Once the oil is shimmering, add the shrimp in one layer, working in batches if necessary, and cook without stirring for 2-3 minutes.
- Step 5 Once a nice crisp has formed and they are almost completely pink, stir for another minute or so or until cooked through.
- Step 6 Add the sauce and stir to incorporate, making sure that the shrimp are coated and the sauce has thickened slightly, about 2 minutes.
- Step 7 Serve!
Welcome to BurntToast! My name is Meaghan, and this is my safe space, a place where we can share stories, share recipes and share life. It’s my dream that you can come here, kick your shoes off and pour yourself a glass of wine while you read, laugh, and maybe even hop into the kitchen. This is my heart, for all of you to see. And ALL are welcome here.