I have been battling my acne problem for what seemed like forever. These evil little pimples and zits started popping out and appearing on my face since grade 6, or grade 5? I'm not so sure even.
I have quite a serious case of acne problem (not extremely severe, not the worst, thank god) and I couldn't remember how I looked without acne. Seeing my face like that in the mirror every day surely doesn't feel good. I have tried multiple ways to kill them bastards (different acne products, facials and chinese herbal remedies, clean diet, etc.), but they just wouldn't die and let me be. They were determined to kill my self-esteem and self-confidence. I am sure of it. I hate to admit it, but they are having their way; those damn bastards are/have always been winning. Sure, there were better days when my skin looked a tit-bit better. After awhile though, the zits pop right back out. The more the merrier, it seemed to them punks.
There are days that I feel extremely terrible about myself, that I feel so ugly and uncool, when my self-esteem hit bottom and my self-confidence dropped to zero. And I look at the mirror and just say, 'you ugly bitch.' Yes, I even cried a few times. When I look at other girls with the porcelain skin, smooth as alabaster; I get so jealous. Why wasn't I born with that? I want to skin them and exchange my skin with theirs.
I credit most of my low self-esteem and self-consciousness to those rascals on my face. But I discovered recently during my quiet-thinking-time that I am so obsessed with fashion and clothing because of my acne problem. What I wear, I have control over; what happens to my face, I have none (as much as I want to). I already have poor skin, and if I don't even give a damn about what I wear, I'll be a total faux pas, a total frump. So I always pay extra attention to what I put on.
Yes, I know inner beauty is more important than outer beauty. I totally agree with that age old bs. But outer beauty counts too. I hate to look the way I am now. It is difficult to play it cool when friends and family address my acne problem, even thought they always mean it kindly. It is difficult to act uncaring and cool about it because I do care a lot. I am just so frustrated. I curse the day puberty hit me right in the face and planted these hideous pimple-bitches deep under my skin. And how many acne had puberty planted? I don't know, I feel like each of my little pores are acne-cornucopias. They just never stop popping out and oozing out them vile self-esteem-killers. I know some of you do have the same problem as me, and I wanted you to know that you are not alone.
I dream of the day when I look into the mirror and see a smooth-faced, acne-free me. I dream of the day when I look in the mirror and say to myself, 'damn girl, you look pretty.'. I dream of the day when I look in the mirror and love what I see. I dream of that day coming. But will it ever come? My hope is running low.
Disclaimer: I am so sorry for all this negativity. But I do have a right to feel how I feel and whatever that's troubling me. And I know I am a lot luckier and have it way better than some other people out there, but my problem is still my problem and I'd still like to talk about it.
And have I mention my acne scars and ginormous pores? (don't even get me started)
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