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Please STOP shaving your face every single morning. I know that sounds strange. But every time you reach for that razor in the shower, lean into the bathroom mirror under the harsh light, or cancel plans because you noticed new growth along your jaw — you might be managing a symptom instead of addressing what's actually happening to your skin. I used to be just like you. Standing in the bathroom at 6am, tilting my chin toward the light to catch every hair before anyone else could. Keeping a tweezer in my handbag, one in my desk drawer at work, one in my overnight bag — because being caught without one meant panic. Checking my reflection in the car mirror every time I stopped at a red light. Always checking. Calculating in my head how long I had before the stubble came back. Was it two days this time? Three, if I was lucky? Telling myself this was just something that happened when you got older. That all women dealt with this. That it was just part of menopause. I did this for seven years. Seven entire years of planning my life around a razor. And what made it worse wasn't even the time or the effort. It was the shame. The feeling that I had to hide something. That I had to be up before my husband. That I had to check my reflection before I leaned in to kiss my grandchildren hello. My friends would complain about grey hairs and I'd think — at least that's easy to hide. This was every morning. Every single day, the same ritual. Every single weekend away, the same anxiety about packing enough supplies. I tried everything to make it more manageable. Waxing kits from the chemist that left my skin red and raw for days. Threading, which hurt so much I'd come home with watery eyes. Bleaching creams. Hair removal creams that burned. My GP said it was completely normal — hormonal changes after menopause often cause facial hair, and there wasn't much to be done about it short of laser, which was expensive and not always effective on light or fine hair. So I accepted it. What else could I do? But then last winter something shifted. I was staying with my friend Carol in Manly — we do a girls' weekend every year. On the second morning I came down to breakfast and realised I'd forgotten to check my chin in the mirror. Completely forgotten. And Carol was sitting right across from me in full sunlight. I excused myself to go check in the bathroom, and when I came back she could tell something was wrong. So I told her. I told her I'd been doing this for years. The early morning ritual. The travel razor. All of it. She looked at me for a long moment and then said: "Why didn't you tell me? I had the same problem. I sorted it about a year ago." She pulled out this little device from her bag. Compact, pink, looked almost medical. She told me she'd found it after her daughter had seen an ad for it and sent her the link. She said it was a facial epilator — but not like anything she'd tried before. No pain. No redness. No thick stubble growing back. I was sceptical. I'd tried epilators years ago on my legs and they were excruciating. There was no way I was using something like that on my face. But Carol said: "That's the whole point. This one is completely different. It's designed specifically for facial hair on older skin. Gentle enough that I use it while I'm watching telly." She showed me how fine the regrowth was when it did come back — nothing like the coarse stubble I'd dealt with after shaving. More like peach fuzz. And it took far longer to come back than a razor ever did. I borrowed it that afternoon, standing in her bathroom mirror with the curtains open and good light. I barely felt it. I ordered my own that night, sitting on Carol's back veranda with a glass of wine. Told myself not to expect too much. The first time I used it at home, I did it standing at my bathroom mirror in the morning — the same spot where I'd stood with a razor for seven years. It took less than two minutes. No redness. No rawness. Nothing. I kept waiting for the stubble to come back rough and dark the way it did after shaving. It didn't. When the hair grew back, it was fine. Soft. Barely visible. And it took nearly two weeks instead of two days. The third time I used it, I realised I'd stopped checking my reflection in shop windows. It's been eight months now. I don't think about it the way I used to. I don't check before I hug my grandchildren. I don't set my alarm earlier than my husband so I can get to the bathroom first. My handbag no longer has an emergency razor in the front pocket. I didn't even notice when I stopped putting one there. I'm not saying this will be exactly the same for everyone. But if you've been shaving your face every day or every few days, and you've tried other things that left you red or sore or with stubble that came back worse — maybe you just haven't found the right tool yet. One designed for women like us. For our skin. For our kind of hair. For our kind of mornings. The one I found is specifically designed for older women, with a gentle touch that works on sensitive facial skin. It's quick, it's easy, and the regrowth — when it does come back — is nothing like what a razor leaves behind. I use it twice a month now. That's it. And I don't think about my chin in the mirror anymore. I don't have to. If you're reading this and you see yourself in my story — if you've built your whole morning around a razor and told yourself this is just how things are now — I want you to know it doesn't have to be. You don't have to plan your weekends around it. You don't have to check your reflection every time you walk past a window. I didn't think I'd ever feel that kind of freedom. And now I do. Click below to find out more about what worked for me, and why the right tool makes all the difference. You don't have to accept this as just part of getting older. You just have to find something that was actually made for you.