It’s that time of year again. People are emerging from their cocoons into the 60 degree weather. They’re putting their winter puffer coats in plastic storage bins and breaking out their distressed jean jackets. They’re purchasing more shaving cream in preparation for the annoying maintenance routine that usually takes place before donning a skirt. Their minds are filled with the wondrous (possibly unrealistic) things they think will happen for them this spring and summer.

As a person who often wants to yell “DON’T LOOK AT ME” and dramatically turn the opposite direction (read: someone who is generally afraid to reveal both their inside and outside to others) I dread this time of year. I don’t like the longer days because it’s just more daylight from which I can’t hide. I much prefer the comfort of an early nightfall, when I can cloak myself in darkness at 5pm. My instinct during these months is usually to stow away and maybe even double down by throwing on an extra scarf.

When people notice my impractical choice of clothing (e.g. a sweater in 80 degree weather) they usually ask, “Are you cold?”

My external response is “Yes.”

My internal response is, “No, I just have low self confidence right now but thanks so much for drawing attention to it. I really appreciate that.”

The stress of this season specifically is compounded by the fact that I will not be hiding behind the safety of my face mask as often now that outdoor dinner gatherings and daytime barbecues are possible again. At this point I’ve honestly forgotten what other people’s mouths look like up close. I see a friend’s mouth, whether they’re innocently taking a sip of water or quickly applying chapstick, and I feel like I’ve seen a tit. There’s an air of naughtiness about it, isn’t there? It’s basically the new nip slip.

One of my main concerns here is that my facial hair removal has been a little devil-may-care as of late. I didn’t think about how nervous I would be to one day remove the mask and expose myself. (I was probably too busy thinking about how happy I was to have my chin and neck hair securely covered during close conversation.) I already get anxious to bare my legs and upper arms when spring rolls around, and now I have to contend with revealing my long concealed upper lip as well? It’s a lot to handle, but I don’t think I have any more motivation or energy left to get back into the routine. (I wish I didn’t have any more fucks to give either, but unfortunately I still have those. I’m plagued by fucks to give. I’m always giving fucks. NO. This parenthetical was supposed to explain that I care too much about the judgment of others to stop tweezing my face, not that I’m sleeping around, okay?!) Does at-home electrolysis exist? Does at-home electrolysis exist for people who aren’t the Kardashians?

I have to face the facts. The socially acceptable timeframe for wearing turtlenecks is quickly closing. The snow is melting. Not even the grass can hide anymore. Before I know it, I’ll be worriedly squeezing into my bathing suit for the first time this year. Time stops for no one.

Here we go. No more hiding.