The tale of the Nastiness: What a skin issue taught me about beauty
When you think about how you want your skin to look like, "a pizza" probably isn't the first thing to come to mind. It probably doesn't even come to mind at all. Unfortunately, this is precisely what my face has looked like the past few days.
Now, I've been fortunate to not have had any major skin issues. I was able to evade acne as a teen. If I got a blemish, I'd just dab some concealer on that bad boy and be on my merry way. I use pore strips mostly as an indulgent novelty, not because I feel like I need them all that much. (And yes, removing gunk from my pores is my idea of a fun activity - #PartyAnimal.)
So imagine my surprise when my face broke out in red, flaky splotches over the past few days. (This post is not for the faint of heart, so turn back now if you can't take it. Just kidding... sort of.) I'm no stranger to dry skin, usually accompanying seasonal changes. Slather on some Bath & Body Warm Vanilla Sugar body lotion and I'm good to go. But on my face? Was this some kind of sick joke?
The past few weeks, I've been trying a rotating system of facial moisturizers and cleansers to remedy the mild dryness descending on my face. (Holding a cucumber on it is also really soothing, oddly enough.) But about two days ago, it spiraled out of control, and I woke up looking like I had been in the sun for two straight weeks. I didn't think I looked that bad (overconfidence or wishful thinking? The world may never know), but let's just say someone asked me if I had poison ivy. (!) OMG.
On top of the physical nastiness, my face hurts, yo. The horrendous-looking skin is accompanied by a tight, cracking feeling, and there's this consistently burning sensation on my face. I wake up and am afraid that if I open my mouth my face will crack like a statue who is seriously deprived of some moisture.
But that's an issue for another time - and probably a dermatologist. Anyway, my distress at this situation reached a peak today when I had to do my segment for the entertainment broadcast I'm involved with at school. At first, I didn't think I looked that bad, but under bright lights? On camera? And if I'm being honest, my face would look pretty ghastly to any innocent bystander.
That's when I decided to take matters into my own hands.
This morning, with the knowledge that I couldn't face another day looking like a clown, I conducted an intense regimen of exfoliating, moisturizing, and finally, attempting to cover the areas with makeup, a feat I had been avoiding both to let my skin breathe and because I was worried that piling goop onto the ick on my face would just make it look worse.
Finally, by some miracle, the nastiness looked totally invisible, thanks to my new Maybelline BB cream and some Clinique moisturizer borrowed from my roommate (who has endured the question "Does my face look normal?" a crazy amount of times the past few days).
If you're curious about what I did to try and basically Photoshop myself, I attempted to scrub all the flakiness off my face (probably not a healthy approach - 8/10 Libbys would not recommend), lightly moisturizing, and rubbing BB cream on what was as close to a smooth surface as I could make it. I also dusted some mild red Covergirl blush on the areas of my face that weren't affected by the spots of doom, so just in case the redness beneath the 5 inches of BB cream started to reveal itself, my face would have an overall red look, like I just went to the beach, not like I had literal splotches. (Again, probably a strange approach. I never said I was good at facial makeup.)
Anyway, when I looked in the mirror, I finally felt like myself again. [roll montage of happier days, when my face didn't hurt] but we don't really think about our physical representations until they're messed up in some way. I never really thought about my skin until it broke out in The Nastiness. (I am making this a proper noun because of its profound effect on my life lately... and because I don't know what else to call it. Believe me, I have scoured medical websites across the internet, and everything tells me I just have extreme dry skin. Cool beans.)
I walked out of my room with a confidence I hadn't felt in days. Rather than wanting to hide my face, I was proud to attack the day with a newfound openness. ("LOOK AT ME, my face isn't gross!!!") When I went to the dining hall to get breakfast, I ran into a good friend who said I looked good and complimented my outfit, and that comment meant a lot. Now, I obviously do not seek recognition for my appearance from others, or at least I try not to, but it sure was nice to be spoken to in a positive way rather than judged or stared at for The Nastiness. I had successfully camouflaged the beast that was ravaging on my face. I was unstoppable. I ordered my omelette with gusto. ("I'll have ham, spinach, and tomato, please. By the way, have you seen my not-messed-up face?")
Unfortunately, The Nastiness started to return after a couple hours. Those flaky red splotches just really wanted their time in the spotlight. (And even with The Nastiness covered, it was still uncomfortable and painful as hell. It's like having chapped lips that no amount of lip balm will fix.) I filmed my broadcast segment, dabbing on lip gloss and applying light moisturizer right up until the moment I got in front of the camera in order to fend off those pesky splotches for just a little bit longer. And I made it through the day.
I'm growing into The Nastiness. I'm starting to feel affection for it actually. It may be Nastiness, but it's my Nastiness. Just kidding, I hate it and can't wait to have a smooth, nicely hydrated face again. But what I've found interesting throughout this whole skincare adventure is the emotional effects that have come with it, from literally wanting to hide to basically exploding with joy. Throughout the day, I talked to a few people who also said they'd been having major dry skin lately, which gave me a sense of relief unlike any other. (They probably didn't give theirs a name though... I can say with almost 100% certainty I'm the only one who did that.)
It's also interesting how something that seems so small - some skin on my face - can have such huge effects on everything from my confidence to my focus. (It's hard to pay attention in class when it hurts to move your face and you have to keep applying EOS to your lips every 30 seconds, as if that will help).
So even if it's uncomfortable, or ugly, or painful, I promise that you can get through your own version of The Nastiness, whatever that is. Sometimes you just have to ride it out, like I'm doing with this whole debacle. And if your own Nastiness happens to be skin care-related, I have a plethora of products and website links that can help you out.
Now, I've been fortunate to not have had any major skin issues. I was able to evade acne as a teen. If I got a blemish, I'd just dab some concealer on that bad boy and be on my merry way. I use pore strips mostly as an indulgent novelty, not because I feel like I need them all that much. (And yes, removing gunk from my pores is my idea of a fun activity - #PartyAnimal.)
So imagine my surprise when my face broke out in red, flaky splotches over the past few days. (This post is not for the faint of heart, so turn back now if you can't take it. Just kidding... sort of.) I'm no stranger to dry skin, usually accompanying seasonal changes. Slather on some Bath & Body Warm Vanilla Sugar body lotion and I'm good to go. But on my face? Was this some kind of sick joke?
The past few weeks, I've been trying a rotating system of facial moisturizers and cleansers to remedy the mild dryness descending on my face. (Holding a cucumber on it is also really soothing, oddly enough.) But about two days ago, it spiraled out of control, and I woke up looking like I had been in the sun for two straight weeks. I didn't think I looked that bad (overconfidence or wishful thinking? The world may never know), but let's just say someone asked me if I had poison ivy. (!) OMG.
 |
| Temporary lifesavers (clockwise from upper right): e.l.f. lip exfoliator, Clinique moisturizer, EOS lip balm, Maybelline BB cream, Covergirl blush |
On top of the physical nastiness, my face hurts, yo. The horrendous-looking skin is accompanied by a tight, cracking feeling, and there's this consistently burning sensation on my face. I wake up and am afraid that if I open my mouth my face will crack like a statue who is seriously deprived of some moisture.
But that's an issue for another time - and probably a dermatologist. Anyway, my distress at this situation reached a peak today when I had to do my segment for the entertainment broadcast I'm involved with at school. At first, I didn't think I looked that bad, but under bright lights? On camera? And if I'm being honest, my face would look pretty ghastly to any innocent bystander.
That's when I decided to take matters into my own hands.
This morning, with the knowledge that I couldn't face another day looking like a clown, I conducted an intense regimen of exfoliating, moisturizing, and finally, attempting to cover the areas with makeup, a feat I had been avoiding both to let my skin breathe and because I was worried that piling goop onto the ick on my face would just make it look worse.
Finally, by some miracle, the nastiness looked totally invisible, thanks to my new Maybelline BB cream and some Clinique moisturizer borrowed from my roommate (who has endured the question "Does my face look normal?" a crazy amount of times the past few days).
If you're curious about what I did to try and basically Photoshop myself, I attempted to scrub all the flakiness off my face (probably not a healthy approach - 8/10 Libbys would not recommend), lightly moisturizing, and rubbing BB cream on what was as close to a smooth surface as I could make it. I also dusted some mild red Covergirl blush on the areas of my face that weren't affected by the spots of doom, so just in case the redness beneath the 5 inches of BB cream started to reveal itself, my face would have an overall red look, like I just went to the beach, not like I had literal splotches. (Again, probably a strange approach. I never said I was good at facial makeup.)
Anyway, when I looked in the mirror, I finally felt like myself again. [roll montage of happier days, when my face didn't hurt] but we don't really think about our physical representations until they're messed up in some way. I never really thought about my skin until it broke out in The Nastiness. (I am making this a proper noun because of its profound effect on my life lately... and because I don't know what else to call it. Believe me, I have scoured medical websites across the internet, and everything tells me I just have extreme dry skin. Cool beans.)
I walked out of my room with a confidence I hadn't felt in days. Rather than wanting to hide my face, I was proud to attack the day with a newfound openness. ("LOOK AT ME, my face isn't gross!!!") When I went to the dining hall to get breakfast, I ran into a good friend who said I looked good and complimented my outfit, and that comment meant a lot. Now, I obviously do not seek recognition for my appearance from others, or at least I try not to, but it sure was nice to be spoken to in a positive way rather than judged or stared at for The Nastiness. I had successfully camouflaged the beast that was ravaging on my face. I was unstoppable. I ordered my omelette with gusto. ("I'll have ham, spinach, and tomato, please. By the way, have you seen my not-messed-up face?")
Unfortunately, The Nastiness started to return after a couple hours. Those flaky red splotches just really wanted their time in the spotlight. (And even with The Nastiness covered, it was still uncomfortable and painful as hell. It's like having chapped lips that no amount of lip balm will fix.) I filmed my broadcast segment, dabbing on lip gloss and applying light moisturizer right up until the moment I got in front of the camera in order to fend off those pesky splotches for just a little bit longer. And I made it through the day.
I'm growing into The Nastiness. I'm starting to feel affection for it actually. It may be Nastiness, but it's my Nastiness. Just kidding, I hate it and can't wait to have a smooth, nicely hydrated face again. But what I've found interesting throughout this whole skincare adventure is the emotional effects that have come with it, from literally wanting to hide to basically exploding with joy. Throughout the day, I talked to a few people who also said they'd been having major dry skin lately, which gave me a sense of relief unlike any other. (They probably didn't give theirs a name though... I can say with almost 100% certainty I'm the only one who did that.)
It's also interesting how something that seems so small - some skin on my face - can have such huge effects on everything from my confidence to my focus. (It's hard to pay attention in class when it hurts to move your face and you have to keep applying EOS to your lips every 30 seconds, as if that will help).
So even if it's uncomfortable, or ugly, or painful, I promise that you can get through your own version of The Nastiness, whatever that is. Sometimes you just have to ride it out, like I'm doing with this whole debacle. And if your own Nastiness happens to be skin care-related, I have a plethora of products and website links that can help you out.
Comments
Post a Comment