Beautifully Acned

Photo credits: Other Perspectives

What is wrong with your face?
Why is it all blown up with pimples?
Your acnes look so big why?
You know you should take more fruits and litres of water.
Try so and so ointments and scrubs. Sometimes the acne is just because of dirt you know.

These are some of the questions and statements that I have encountered in regard to my bouts of acne outbreaks. See, I have lived with acne for thirteen years now. Yes, thirteen long years. It is one of those things I hardly talk about because it is among the insecurities I have struggled with for so long. I mean thirteen years is close to half the number of years I have lived on this earth already. If you meet me now, you probably can’t tell that I once had raging outbreaks but if you look close enough though, you can see the scars. My skin is one to easily leave permanent scars. 

I still have outbreaks but they are not as violent as they were in my pubescent years. 

This piece is for those people like me have to wake up each day, look in the mirror countless times and wonder if they look good enough. I don’t know how it is or how it has been for the guys who have acne but I can still relate when it comes to matters worthiness. And no, this is not advice entailing a twenty step skin care routine which would require you to buy a rare cactus from Nepal. I’m sure you have had enough of those damn routines. I am sure you have had enough of people( especially our smooth baby-skinned counterparts) advising you left, right and centre as if they know how it feels to wear this skin we wear. I am just here to take you through this part of my life and to remind you that you are worthy. So here goes;

My acne outbreaks started way back when I was still in primary school. It started as a single pimple on my left cheek. It is weird I and interesting how I remember tiny details like that. This was way before my periods came. At the time, I thought that pimple would disappear and I was somehow hopeful that it was a sign my periods would come soon. In any case, it was the least of my concerns because I was in some concentration camp of a catholic boarding school. All I was worried about was how I would shove the undercooked ugali and burnt vegetables down my gut or the number of lashes I would get from the matron because my clothes were among the lost and found.

Fast forward to high school, that is where it got serious. It really got bad. My face would have these waves of ugly outbreaks. They never really coincided with menses by the way. My face felt like a furnace every time I had those outbreaks. I felt like popping them but then they were so painful and itchy. I just felt like peeling my skin off. It was too much. At a time when puberty was at its peak, mine was not as glorious. I felt bad about myself and how I was not turning out as the other girls. 

It was in high school when it hit me that the acne was here to stay. All the pinpointing by my friends and teachers as to why my face was the way it was just made me feel like I was abnormal. An outcast. The worst thing was I didn't know what was wrong really. All those unwanted comments and pinpointing actually cut deep. I felt hurt every time anyone asked me what was wrong. It really hurt when people looked at me like I was an experiment gone wrong.

I lost confidence in myself. I actually stopped putting myself in positions where all the attention would be focused on me. The good and bad thing about high school like the one I was in is that it was easy to shy away with no one actually noticing, especially if you are the type to not talk much like me. It was in high school where I got to have a firsthand experience on what it meant to be judged by the book cover. It was in the subtle way some people hinted that I was never enough to be in a certain clique or in the way they slowly avoided me. 

I was never interested in ‘funkies’ or any event that necessitated interacting with boys because I knew I couldn't take it if they made fun of me. I would crack. If I happened to be in any event, I really worked hard to not be 'noticed'. I always acted indifferent or made sure I was boring. I mean, if my own kind could make jokes about my sebum pumped skin, how about rowdy testosterone pumped boys? I just couldn't put myself out there. There were so many things I didn't do in back then because I didn't like myself.

The acne outbreaks got so serious when I was seventeen that my parents took me all the way to Kisumu to see a dermatologist. By the way could we have more doctors should specialize in dermatology because there are many other skin conditions than acne? It is bad enough that skin care products for oily skin are expensive. Even medicine to control acne is damn expensive too. If you think I'm lying just ask someone who has been to a dermatologist. As if to add salt to injury the side effects are on the extreme. Anyway, this good old doctor was really kind. He explained slowly that my acne was as a result of an imbalance of hormones. Imagine those minute chemicals causing all that havoc. He was really nice though. I finally got to understand what was going on. The downside was that because I was still young, he would not prescribe any strong medication but a mild one which would act slowly. If by the age of 21 my acne would not have reduced then I would have to be prescribed a stronger drug.

That was a low moment for me. A really low one. I wanted my face to be clear and this doctor was saying that this has to be treated slowly? How? I was disappointed honestly. So for six months or so in my final year of high school I was under medication. I didn't tell anybody at school and nobody could ever know because I was a prefect with my own cubicle. That cube was my solace in high school. I had less time to interact with people.

I would take my medicine at the comfort and privacy of my room. I also prayed like mad. During that time I was more catholic than I had ever been. The number of Novenas I prayed for my skin God only knows. My prayers used to have lines like, "God, you are the commander-in-chief of the armed hormones. You gotta do something." I am sure God used to laugh and say something like, "Okay girl. Thanks for the new title." During the holidays, I hardly went out unless it was absolutely necessary. I never had a high school sweetheart. I never had a lot of friends because I just couldn’t find the strength and energy to show up. I liked my quiet alone moments because I didn’t have to pressure myself to fit in. I didn’t have to exert myself to people and deal with anxieties thereafter. Just like that, my adolescence stage went in a blur.

There is something about not liking yourself you know. It seeps in and takes root in all aspects of your life. My dating life was not spared. By the time I was done with high school I was sure I was not beautiful. I mean I was told I was beautiful but I never believed it because I thought people or guys for that matter were so full of it. The self sabotage and damage that my lack of self confidence caused was too much. Believe it or not, I have looked at guys in the eye and asked them why they like me when there are other prettier and more beautiful girls. I still wonder how I said such self demeaning words with courage. I really thought I didn’t deserve love and I did turn off quite a number of good men.

It has always been part of me to pick up and determine people's character just by the way they talk even if it comes out as a joke. Being judged for your skin flaw does that to you. I remember there was this guy I really liked. So it happened that one day I just overheard him talking to his friends about how he cannot date girls with pimples because he would be embarrassed to show them off. Imagine that. They laughed. The pain and hurt I felt was unfathomable because I knew I was not any different from the girls they kept describing. They were basically talking about me. I cried myself to sleep that day just as I had many times. I stopped talking to that guy and many other guys because I knew then as I know now that people mean what they say. In my life with acne, I have come across ladies who bash pimply girls like me by saying we are ugly. It is heartbreaking. I learnt early that words can really bruise and leave permanent mental scars. Words can torture for eternity even if they are said by people you don't know.

It is not to say that I have never dated anyone. I have. Looking back now, those relationships were as good as they came or as they lasted. Those guys were never bothered with my pimples. They loved me for who I was (Or maybe my smile overshadowed the flaw😂. I do smile and laugh a lot). Anyway, in some way, these guys offered me a safe place to land and I honestly appreciate them for that. I don't think they have any idea the courage it took for me to be vulnerable and let them in. In a way, through them, I slowly got my confidence back. 

In a way, I came to realize that I was able to love these people because I was projecting those parts of me that I liked and loved then. This realization was sort of a light bulb moment. There are guys who really don't care and no matter the relationship, you can only love people as much as you love yourself. You can only meet people as deeply as you have met yourself.

I wish people would know how it feels to be asked those questions, how it feels to be told those statements and how it feels to be given such unsolicited advice I aired up there. I wish you would know just how rude and insensitive it is. We already know we have acne. It is not your place to point them out. We never asked to have acne or pimples. We never did. If you do not have skin issues keep your mouth shut. By the way I don't take advice from people who have never had skin issues. I only take advice from those who know what it feels like to be like this. If you still don't find it rude or insensitive, I want you to project yourself into the future when you have kids and they happen to get acne. Would you keep on talking to your friends of how ugly and how they are not perfect? Would you really? If you would, then you are such a terrible person. Watch your tongue; you just never know what people are battling with.

I am at a place of acceptance now. I know I will never wake up like that. Flawless. It just wouldn't happen. I know I have to forgo certain pleasures to better manage my acne. I know in some way I have to be extra disciplined unlike other people. I know I am still going to have outbreaks which would probably span my entire life till menopause but I can't really do much you know. This acne is part of me. Emotionally, I am at a good place because damn, I have come to love myself even in my imperfections. In any case perfection is a disease. This is me. Take it or leave it. I do not tolerate people whose business is to make others feel bad because they do not fit the world's standard of perfection.

To my fellow members in the committee of oily, acned and pimply skin, I feel you. Trust me, I really do. I relate to the emotional spectrum you go through because I have felt what you feel. I need you to know you are enough of a human being. Let no one make you feel otherwise. You are going to doubt your worth I know, but I need you to calm down. I need you to be patient, kind and soft to yourself. I need you to believe in yourself and your light as a living human being because who you are is good enough.