Day eighteen

My other posts today have elicited all the emotion from me I can take for a Friday morning. I can't bring myself to search my soul for my deepest insecurity just now.

But here is one which is very true and which is normally be hard for me to share - though, today I don't really care. My most consistent insecurity for the past sixteen years or so has been my skin and here is a picture of it with no makeup:

It is true, there are times that I don't wear makeup and dare to go out in public, but I really don't feel confident this way. I have pale skin, I stay out of the sun. I tan well but I just don't like the sun, and I'd like to get only a healthy amount of it which I think I do with all my walking.
I use Dr. Bronner's tea tree soap, emu oil, tea tree oil and the rest is always revolving - some kind of natural lotion or oil, some kind of mineral makeup. I consider my finances and the weather when I shop for these things. The main problem is that I just have such oily skin. I am thankful for it for many reasons, especially when I compare it to Tom's dry, sensitive and allergic and undoubtedly more quickly wrinkling skin. But I do envy his skin's beauty.

I have two other problems. I am forever touching my face, especially cradling my chin in my hand and resting my fingers on my cheek - the stance of a student. And I have the most ridiculous hormones. If the average person is 60% water I am at least 60% hormones. (Oh! That's another problem! I don't drink enough water. That's a big one, I should do that.) These wreck havoc on my poor skin.

But it is not only my transient imperfections that get me down, I've got dark circles under my eyes that defy my regular 8 hours sleep. Though, as I inherited these from my beautiful mother, who "never had bad skin" (oh, lucky you), I don't mind them that much.

My skin has affected my confidence negatively though my entire adolescence - and it's not helping my adulthood much either. But it is better, of course. Hormones are not quite as crazy as before. I am eating better, taking better care of my skin - not junking it up with bad makeup or drying it out or burning it off with conventional grocery store terrors. The truth is that if I make a concerted effort and treat my face with kid gloves it does basically behave. This was true with the lead-up to my wedding. Only one small blemish thanks to the heat of the set-up the night before, and maybe a little stress. Of course, the second PMS begins no amount of coddling will do anything. My skin is in relative shambles for about two weeks a month.

I know others have it worse than me, I know I'm lucky. But for those who have it the same as me, who not only have not-great skin now but who suffered years of youthful insecurity and discomfort and who still carry the scars I want you to know I'm with you!