Skin. Science tells us that the skin is the body’s biggest organ. Puberty, on the other hand, tells us that skin may or may not be your worst enemy in your teens.
I had acne. It almost makes me feel scared to write down HAD, for fear that the Acne Gods might hear and make a cameo again on my face.
My acne story, I guess, is pretty standard. When I was in Highschool, my skin was pretty solid. I got the occasional blemish that appeared when you least hoped it would. You know, the pimple that appears a couple of days before your interaction with the neighboring all boys school (yes, I went to a Catholic all girls school complete with the uniform and mary janes), the zit that you desperately try to medicate the week before prom, that whitehead/blackhead you shouldn’t have popped but couldn’t resist that took its revenge and grew to monstrous proportions before your first date. We’ve all been there. We’ve survived. College was a lot more challenging. I don’t know if it was my first break up or the copious amounts of alcohol and cigarettes I took in to soothe said break up that made my skin go haywire. It took numerous visits to my dermatologist, ticking laser sessions on my face and the ever depressing amount of medication I had to put on my face to calm my skin back down, but by the end of college, I had emerged victorious and quite literally scar free.
Law school, on the other hand, was my least skintastic moment. It seemed to grow worse every year that passed, like it was following my law school career. Like, oh you finished freshman year? Here’s one pimple. Oh, third year? Here’s a gabillion zits to celebrate your passing of your Succession and Wills class! With my constant stressing over exams and recitations and cases, I felt that one of the only few things I could control was my makeup. I would pile on cream foundation to cover up my bumps, which, let’s be real, probably wasn’t the smartest of choices. I spent a good portion of my allowance those years on facials and acne treatments, hoping to finally prick out all the nasties from my face. Did. Not. Help.
Fast forward to a law degree, 3 failed bar exams, a year of floating around not knowing what to do then deciding to finally pursue Makeup school, my skin is at the point that I feel that I don’t need to wear much makeup anymore. Granted, I will probably never break away from makeup and go all naked skinned glory (I am a makeup artist, after all) but I can finally practice a 5 minute minimal makeup routine, without wanting to throw my arms up in frustration. I still have my battle scars, parts of my skin which haven’t fully recovered from all the stupid things I’ve done and put on my face. But hey, we live and we learn, right? Over all, I am pretty happy with my skin right now. Hopefully, I don’t jinx it by writing this post. Haha.
How about you? What’s your skin story? 🙂