PCOS, Chin Hairs, and Trusting Jesus Anyway

There’s a special kind of betrayal when your body decides to be that difficult roommate—the one who eats your snacks, leaves a mess, and refuses to pay rent. For me (and millions of other women), that unwelcome guest is Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS)—the hormonal circus act that no one signs up for but somehow gets a front-row seat to.

Hair Today, Gone… Never.

Let’s start with the hair. PCOS hair growth is a cosmic joke. I could look at a shampoo commercial and think, “That’s me, I want that volume.” But instead of healthy locks, my chin, upper lip, and stomach get the memo loud and clear—thick, dark, and flourishing like I’m preparing for winter hibernation. Eyebrows? Patchy. Scalp? Losing ground faster than a sandcastle at high tide. But chin hairs? Oh, those flourish like they’ve got a lease on life.

I’ve tried every solution under the sun: creams, plucking, waxing, laser treatments, supplements, you name it. I’ve even tried to have a “conversation” with my chin hairs (because, why not? At this point, they’re practically family), but nothing seems to work. I could braid them before I even get a ponytail going. Humbling? Absolutely. Funny? Maybe a little. But mostly, it’s frustrating.

Metformin and the Wild Ride of Treatment Roulette

And let’s talk about Metformin for a minute—PCOS’ most prescribed frenemy. I gave it a shot, hoping for a miracle. Instead, I got a stomach that had a mind of its own, nausea that could rival a bad rollercoaster ride, and the distinct feeling that my insides were staging a protest. I’ve also tried every supplement—Inositol, spearmint tea, vitamin D, magnesium—you name it, I’ve swallowed it. And the shots? You guessed it, I’ve done those too. Yet, here I am—still fighting this hormonal battle that seems relentless.

PCOS doesn’t just make losing weight difficult—it makes it feel like an Olympic event. I could walk past a plate of fries, and I swear, I’d gain five pounds. Meanwhile, the weight that does show up has a personal vendetta, sticking around like an uninvited guest at a party. So many days, I look in the mirror and wonder how much more I can handle.

Cyst Ruptures: A Painful Surprise Party

If you’ve ever had a PCOS cyst rupture, you know the kind of pain that makes you question whether your appendix is staging a rebellion or if you’re about to meet Jesus. The pain is sharp, overwhelming, and somehow both stabbing and cramping at the same time. Doctors usually shrug it off, saying, “Take some ibuprofen.” But when it feels like your ovaries are doing their best impression of a horror movie, no amount of ibuprofen feels like it’ll fix it. And that’s the thing—PCOS doesn’t just steal your peace, it steals your comfort, your confidence, and sometimes, even your joy.

Where is Jesus in All of This?

Let’s be real—PCOS can challenge your faith. Some days, it feels like my body is working actively against me, like I’m on my own in this battle. It’s so easy to feel like God is distant, or wonder why He’s not answering my prayers the way I want. In the middle of cysts, mood swings, and the frustration of treatments that don’t seem to work, I can’t help but ask, “Lord, do You see me? Do You see my pain?”

But through the moments of frustration and tears, I’ve learned something I wasn’t expecting—Jesus is always present, even when my body doesn’t feel like it’s working right. In the moments I feel most broken, I hear Him whisper, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

PCOS may make my body feel like a battlefield, but I’ve realized that it’s in those struggles, in that weakness, where God’s power shines the brightest.

Pain with a Purpose

PCOS is not just uncomfortable; it’s painful. The cyst ruptures? Excruciating. The hormonal shifts that feel like I’m riding a never-ending emotional rollercoaster? Relentless. The exhaustion that follows me no matter how much I sleep? Overwhelming. The acne, the weight, the hair growth—I could list it all. It feels unfair.

But I’ve learned that Jesus never wastes our pain.

I don’t always understand why I’ve been handed this struggle, why my body has to fight me at every turn. But I do know this: He’s not wasting it. While I may not see the bigger picture now, I trust that God is using this pain, this journey, to shape me, to make me more like Him. Through it all, I have to lean on Him more deeply, trust Him more fully, and surrender my frustrations to Him.

PCOS may affect my body, but it does not define me. Jesus defines me.

Living Beyond PCOS

If you’re struggling with PCOS, I want you to know—you’re not alone. We are fighting this battle together, facing rogue hairs, stubborn weight, and unexplained pain. And yes, it can feel overwhelming. Some days, it might even feel like God’s silence is louder than our prayers. But remember—He sees you. He sees me. And He loves us in our brokenness, not just when we’re whole.

So, yes, I’ll keep plucking my chin hairs (because let’s face it, they’re not going anywhere), and I’ll keep pushing through the days when my body feels like it’s failing me. But most importantly, I’ll keep trusting Jesus. Because He is the one who has the final say—not my hormones, not my pain, not my cysts.

One day, I’ll be fully healed—whether it’s here on Earth or when I meet Jesus face to face. Until then, I’ll hold onto the truth that my worth is not defined by my PCOS, but by the Creator who calls me His. And that? That is enough.