My face and I have had the longest relationship ever and are still to find the sweet spot. Right now as I write this, we are like that discordant couple that always makes people uncomfortable during gatherings. Always bickering or hush hushing during parties like they carried their house problems with them. That couple that everyone thinks should call it quits and save themselves but mostly everyone else the drama..or just stay home. The only difference is I’m stuck with this face for an unforeseen amount of time.
Ten or so days a month, my face decides to transform into a war zone. Every morning during this time has me staring at casualties in the form of ugly fat or small but annoyingly painful pimples. When I go to the mirror it’s always the decision on whether to pinch them or follow the more sensible advice of having them dry out and save me from the black spots afterwards. We all know which choice I pick. So my woes never quite end. It’s always trying to get rid of the uglies or dealing with a face full of black spots. Because sometimes I get over excited and decide to kill them all. In my head my face started it all, not me.
Maybe I am being too hard on my face. In all honesty, I’m angry at my face because that’s the first feature people see. In reality, my oily skin and its over productive glands are the real culprits here. Having oily skin for a girl or for anyone but mostly a girl is like trying to pet a lion in a zoo. You feel like its a good idea but really its not. They say oily faces age well but I don’t want to be 40,looking like a 20 year old because my glands are still very active.
I have been to the doctor who said to keep away from stress and not put anything on my face. Maybe I should have told him that I am not stressed but these daily conversations with my face are in fact what is stressing me. I have to talk to my face so she behaves. I do so especially before events when I would really want my face to be good because, putting a bunch of products to get that effect will leave me with very lengthy, depressing talks with my face for the next one month. He prescribed some antibiotics and something to make my face less oily and she behaved. At least I think she did, for a while until she said..’uum..nope, I’ve been too good, the goodness will kill me.’
Sometimes I wake up and instinctively touch myself to see if there is a new addition to my little army. Some would say I am lucky. At least its not that bad. I don’t want to be lucky, I want my face to go back to as it was a year or so ago. I don’t want to be standing in a boutique minding my business, only to have an unsolicited offer for a facial or whatever treatment that entails slathering my face with a bunch of products to see if you can get it looking ‘happy.’ When you deal with acne or any other variation of skin problems then people automatically assume you just don’t know how to scrub your face well. The worst thing is, you are so vulnerable you actually believe them even if deep down you know you have tried all the tricks in the book.
I am still angry at my skin/ face.. Really. I’m angry at my face and whatever part of me that is responsible for this sporadic breakouts. My hormones even. But I learnt long ago that my face is also a bit human. She has her bad days as we all do and on those days instead of scolding her ,maybe I should listen to her. Ask her what she needs and if a warm wash will soothe her. Then I should tell her to give me warnings before she goes haywire so I schedule my days around that. When you hit puberty and the pimples appear, its not a big deal because you know it will be over soon. When you are an adult and face this again, then you know its time to get creative , understanding and very patient. It’s going to be a long journey.