Oh, no. Is that? Wait, maybe it’s just food or a make-up smudge. No, it’s definitely a zit. Crap.
As I move my face closer to the mirror and examine my new blemish, I can’t help but feel completely dejected and demoralized, “another one?” I know I’m not supposed to touch or squeeze it but I go in for the kill anyway, hoping that at the very least I can make it look a little better under some foundation. As I’m going to work on it, I can’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes; this scenario isn’t a new one for me.
I’ve struggled with my skin since the very young age of thirteen. Yup, puberty … what a great time. My acne has always been pretty centralized around my chin, with an occasional blemish above my lip or on my nose (my particular favorites were the ones at the very tip—how flattering!) I was a child, though, and at the time it never really occurred to me that it was something to be embarrassed about. Most of my friends and fellow school mates all suffered from it to some degree, some a lot worse than mine.
As time went on and my acne didn’t clear up, I became unhealthily aware of its presence. My self esteem plummeted. I’m a grown woman, damnit! I shouldn’t have to be squeezing zits and caking on make up to feel beautiful. Thus, my quest for beautiful skin began—a journey that has become a long and arduous one, leaving me at times, feeling so low that I wouldn’t be seen in public.
I’ve been to countless dermatologists and estheticians that have all offered the same results—failure. I’ve tried everything under the sun: antibiotics, facials, peels, topical creams, the Obagi skin care system (that cost me a pretty penny), special diets; you name it, I’ve tried it. For those who join me in suffering from hormonal acne, I’m sure you have all experienced something similar in your dermatological care—spending lots of money on products that raise your hopes but offer ZERO long term pay offs. The roller coaster of emotions I’ve felt has been often unbearable.
