Zits

It’s not uncommon to hear people whine about “getting older.” Chances are you rarely hear anything positive attached to that phrase, so allow me to rock your world with something I came up with all by myself:

One of the greatest privileges of aging is the acquisition of perspective.

Boom. Didn’t that sound like, totally Socratic? Hush, philosopher husband. Unless you agree, that is.

I realize I am not truly old so my apologies if I’ve already annoyed you by the third line of this post. Let me explain:

In the past two weeks I have shared some tender subjects with you. The first subject is firmly rooted in the past, and so I can use my  aged perspective to work through what was once an extremely hurtful experience. And then last week I shared something not-so-distant. I doubt, no matter how old I get, that body image will ever cease to be a struggle.

Today, I would like to continue along the same lines of thought by discussing an old nemesis.

Acne.

Ugh. While I still deal with monthly bouts of hormonally-induced, mild acne, I am thankful to say that my experience with severe acne is securely located in my past. I say “securely”, but one firm yank of a Biore pore strip can show just how near and dear that angry fiend remains.

I have a feeling my kids will deal with acne one day. No, it’s not a feeling; I KNOW my kids will deal with acne some day. Their dad had it, their mom had it, their aunts and uncles on both sides had it.  While I don’t look forward to their battles with this miserable foe, I understand what valuable lessons acne can deliver.

You see, before experiencing acne first-hand, I harbored an unkind and misinformed opinion about my peers who struggled with the beast. I made it through most of junior high and high school with nothing more than a few angry pimples at a time. Which, I guess, was fortunate considering that I was “the homeliest girl” some guys had ever seen. Acne would of really done me in during that miserable awkward stage.

Acne decided to hit me my senior year of high school. And while it never arrives at a “good” time, I remember thinking how unfair it was that acne had to make its appearance right when I was feeling like an adult. It was NOT a fun time in my life, but I learned quite a bit and I’d like to share that with you today.

1. People with acne {usually} have the best personal hygiene.

That’s right–the best.

Never assume that someone who has acne doesn’t take care of their skin. Like most ignorant idiots, before my personal struggle I assumed that people with acne were lax in the hygiene department.

Here’s the thing: when you have acne, you are always. aware. of. your. skin. Always. Each day I would get up, go to the bathroom and look in the mirror to see the damage done in my sleep. What new treasures would await me? Beneath the multiple layers of benzoyl peroxide lay a dermatological minefield.

You can bet your grandpa’s dentures that I would wash my face. I washed the friggen’ heck out of it! Because you know something? When you have acne, you ALWAYS feel dirty. And it sucks. What sucks even more is when others assume you’re just not “clean.”

Why don’t you just wash your face?

If you have ever said that to someone I want you to stop reading this, call that person up, and apologize to them. Then I want you to take a pencil and firmly jab it in your eyeball.

Do it. Ok, skip the pencil part.

Chances are that you were not the only person to say that to them, but you provoked a hornet’s nest of shame and they could do nothing to ease the sting from that humiliation.

2. Be the kind of friend who will meet others in the middle.

Acne taught me a lot about kindness. Because high school is  such a graceless place, and acne is terribly awkward, the friends who showed kindness to me in my struggle were like angels along the way.

There were several days I missed school because my acne was so bad. It came on so suddenly in my senior year, and I had no previous experience with it. It was like I woke up one day and my face was covered with pepperoni.

On one particular day, my friend Melissa came to see me. She had actually driven to the school and spoke to my mom (who was a teacher) and learned that I was home “sick with acne.”

At first, I was embarrassed that Melissa would see me in my gnarly state. I got over that quick. Like the sweet friend that she is, she had me talking, laughing, and baking cookies in no time. And then came the moment where I remembered how hideous my face looked.

“Let’s take a picture!” she said.

Amazing how certain words can instantly elicit an emotional response. The idea of capturing my despised skin on camera aroused such fear and dread that Melissa must have clearly seen what was going through my mind.

Without blinking, she tapped her fingers in flour and powdered her face. She proceeded to dust my face with ridiculous patches of flour and we posed with our cookie sheets, flour faces, and cheesy grins.

She met me in the middle. She leveled the field and provided a way out for me, and for that I was deeply grateful. I am still grateful. Since then, I’ve wanted to be that kind of friend. The kind who will recognize someone’s need and act on it without drawing attention to themselves or the problem.

If I hadn’t personally dealt with acne I would never have learned this valuable truth.

3. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.

Obviously this goes along with number one, but I’d like to reiterate in a slightly different way.

I’m the kind of person who is quite skilled in the art of making fun of people. Yes, it’s true. Before my trial with acne, I had a bad habit of critiquing and poking fun at the less fortunate. Now, I don’t remember making fun of physical handicaps or anything–but a tacky makeup job, weird hair, or bad teeth–yah, I am ashamed to say that I exploited people (usually strangers) for a few cheap laughs.

I’d never go so far as to say something cruel to their face, but the point is I laughed at their expense. I remember one day at lunch, someone told me I “had something right there” and needed to wipe it off with a napkin.

I of course didn’t know what it was I was wiping off my face, so I kept rubbing at it with the napkin. Finally, those around me burst into laughter. I was scrubbing away at a zit that would move for no man.

I was able to laugh alongside everyone else–get in front of the joke, if you will.

But I still remember thinking how horrifically unfair it was that they were laughing at something I couldn’t help. It was a hard lesson to find that usually what I poked fun at in others was something they couldn’t help. How cruel and ugly for me to exploit them. Yes, this was another lesson learned the hard way.

4. Hiding isn’t the answer.

So, I played hooky a couple times. But besides the one fun hangout with Melissa, I pretty much sat around feeling sorry for myself and putting life on hold. If I could have crawled into a cave and burnt my acne off with lava cakes, I would have. Unfortunately, I had to go about it the slow route–meds.

Nothing happens overnight, unless you’re a celebrity and have access to magical witch doctors with buckets of youthful flesh waiting to be slathered upon you. I have this theory that those buckets are dragged out after every Hollywood birth–perhaps it’s charged with umbilical cord blood–I don’t know.

I’m really digressing here.

Back to the point. You cannot hide from your problems, especially when they happen to be your face. Burn! and Amen.

5. The people who really matter only see the beautiful.

I dated my husband in high school, but it was a long-distance relationship. And by long-distance I mean about an hour’s drive. I was very private about the struggles in my life–and I didn’t include him in the acne ordeal. I didn’t want to draw extra attention to it. I also didn’t want to appear ugly in front of him.

The long-distance was convenient in hiding my acne. He only saw me a few times a month and I would butter my face with every concealer known to mankind. This season happened to be before daylight savings, so it still got dark really early. Gobs of makeup, dim lighting, and a 17 year-old-boy in love really worked to my advantage.

However, there were certainly days where I would “appear” in my natural state, and I worried that my boyfriend would dash his eyes out and run as far away from me as he could. But he never seemed to notice, and while I was with him–I forgot. Even more curious, I felt pretty around him.

Months after my acne finally cleared up, I nervously broached the subject with him and asked what he thought of me during my ugly duckling phase.

“You had acne?” he asked in disbelief.

“Um, yah. It was on my face–how could you not see it?”

“I never noticed it. I swear. You always look beautiful–I never saw any acne.”

“Matt, that’s sweet, but be honest. There’s no way you could miss it. It was the ugliest thing ever! Everyone at school noticed.”

“The only ugly thing I ever saw was that terrible uniform you had to wear. Now THAT was ugly, but YOU were always beautiful. I had acne when I was a freshman, so it wouldn’t have scared me away anyways.”

To this day he swears he doesn’t remember the acne.

***

Dealing with acne is a humbling experience. I don’t wish it on anyone, but I cannot say that I regret having it in my life. In fact, I’m thankful for it. I learned some extremely valuable lessons–all at the age of 18, thanks to acne. If you or someone you love is dealing with acne, I urge you to find encouragement in the fact that acne is 100% exterior.

While it might dull your beauty for a time, acne does not extinguish it. In fact, acne refines beauty. Acne allows you to develop beauty in other ways and learn to see it in people who are often overlooked.

Ok, stepping off my soapbox now. I would love to hear from you! Did you deal with acne or some other type of miserable physical stage? Please answer in the comments! Also, feel free to connect on Facebook by liking the page--we’ve been having some fun discussions over there and would love to have you.