My hives and dermatitis really aren’t so bad today. I just decided not to wear make up to work so that I might just experience my bare skin and let it breathe. This is how it is most of the time. This is me.
You are very lovely. I know you don’t need to be told this. I am actually kind of jealous that this is “not bad” because you look great.
At 25 I’ve had uncontrollable, highly visible skin problems my whole life and the great thing about it, which I’m sure you’re familiar with, is that it being visible makes other people think it’s their prerogative to to address it openly as if it weren’t a sensitive subject that makes me feel self-conscious enough already, and give me “advice” on how to properly take care of it. My mom messaged one of my friends on facebook and told them to tell me that windex is a cure for acne.
Sorry for my ramble. :/
Thank you so much. This is actually not bad at all, as in pretty good - most of my issues hide in my scalp right for the moment. There have been times when my conditions have been hyper-visible as well, but I am thankful that I have periods of semi-turbulent rest between them. It is a tiring thing, isn’t it? And oh my god, Windex? Really? I really despise anyone who feels the need to pass judgement or give unwarranted advice. I mean, really. You’re not doing anyone any favors. And ramble on, because it’s what I do too. Case in point:
The first time I remember anyone coming right out to point out my skin issues was when I was 11. I was doing a group project with a boy I had a crush on. I had pulled my hair back that day, which I never EVER did (I did and still do use my hair as a curtain of safety), and my forehead was exposed, covered in sore bumps of cystic acne, pimples, scabs, and coated in oils. I scrubbed my face three times a day and it was persistently oily.
We sat together at a computer and he got really close to my face, touched my forehead, and said “Oh…Ewww, what’s wrong with you?” - then made a face, wiped his hands on his pants, and pretended to gag. At this stage, it was probably the worst thing I had ever experienced.
I don’t remember how I reacted. I probably didn’t say anything. But I will always, always remember that.
I used to think no one could ever love me. I used to think that I could never love me. Sometimes I still can’t believe my fiance isn’t disgusted by my skin problems. Instead, he just holds my hands to keep me from picking at my scalp, or gently reminds me that I’m making it worse, and that he knows it must be difficult, but I should stop scratching. I am so thankful to have him and other people in my life who get it.