Every morning I wake up, waddle to the washroom half awake, and try my best to avoid seeing my face in the mirror as I turn on the lights and hop in the shower. I stay in the shower for as long as I can, not because I’m dreading the busy school day before me, not because I’m dreading stepping out into the cold but dreading seeing my face in the mirror as the steam from the shower slowly clears away.
I have acne. I’ve had acne since I was 12 years old and now I’m 20. Struggling with acne is a never-ending battle. I trick myself into thinking that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel but I just end up disappointing myself each and every single time. I thought Proactiv was going to be my saviour but it failed me. I thought the Clinique acne solutions set was going to be my solution, but it had failed me as well. I get excited for each new product I try, but nothing works.
Since we were little we’ve been taught to never judge a book by its cover, but this lesson always seems to be forgotten when people come across my pimple-filled cover. People forget that there’s more to me than just the acne. As time goes on and people slowly forget about my beauty, my confidence and beauty slowly drifts away from me too.
I have acne. And no, it’s not because I don’t wash my face and it’s definitely not because I’m dirty. A mix of hormonal imbalances and genetics have left me this way. I’m tired of the world stomping down on me. Now I’m left with no choice but to take Accutane – a drug used to treat severe acne and one that comes along with a multitude of side effects. There is a chance that the Accutane will worsen the mental health conditions I already have. But in this beauty driven world, I’d rather choose clear skin over my life.