I've had a hard time seeing myself as beautiful ever since I was in middle school (I've discussed issues with beauty in "peaking" and "hey beautiful," but this post will be a little more thorough than those). And let's be honest - it started with puberty. I distinctly remember going swimming in a neighbor's pool, and when he accidentally brushed my leg, he said I was hairy. I started shaving the next day. More notably, I started struggling with acne. I attended a small K-8 Christian school and had basically grown up with the people I graduated with, so while I was a little embarrassed about my acne, it didn't bother me all that much because my friends had accepted this about me (it only bothered me when the occasional child pointed it out or asked if my pimples were chicken pox)
That completely changed when I went to high school. I had already felt like an ugly duckling at my small Christian middle school, but now I was at a much larger public school, where I had to learn how to dress myself on TOP of having acne, wearing glasses, having braces, AND incorrectly styling my wavy hair. I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb, and suddenly, my self worth became closely tied to my appearance (especially when I was called ugly by some random guy in the hallway one day). I desperately wanted to fit in and make friends, and because I had no fashion sense from years of wearing a school uniform and because I thought people saw me as that one ugly girl featured in every teen movie (you know, the ones that need makeup in order to look ugly because they aren't ugly in real life), I started to make changes. I started wearing contact lenses. I started saving up money to afford clothes from Hollister and American Eagle. I started getting my eyebrows waxed because mine were a lot bushier and unrulier than most. And I started seeing a dermatologist.
Yes, I had tried Proactiv beforehand, like every other person in the early 2000s struggling with acne (sure enough, my first dermatologist said a lot of her clients had tried Proactiv before coming to her). We tried both topical and oral solutions, and I eventually quit seeing her after one solution caused me to break out into hives (I know it wasn't her fault, but I'd also been seeing her for months without any change before moving on). The second dermatologist was actually a pediatric dermatologist who took me on while I was still young enough to qualify and continued seeing me even after I was technically too old. I briefly had success with one of the topical solutions he gave me, but it wasn't enough to make me hopeful it was a long-term solution. I gave up sometime during my senior year.
By then, the braces had come off and I'd discovered the magic of mousse, but since the acne persisted, I started wearing coverup. It was the only type of makeup I regularly wore, and I did it because I couldn't stand the redness that dominated my face. And, sure enough, my acne kept me company in college too.
Throughout both high school and college, there were definitely times when I felt beautiful. In high school, it was rare - it usually only happened when I got dolled up, like for prom or for senior pictures, or on days when my hair looked especially good and I hardly had any acne. It happened a little more frequently in college, especially when I started dating and had a lot of verbal confirmation that I was, in fact, beautiful. It was often so hard for me to see it, though. I spent so much more time focusing on my flaws instead of what I liked about myself...and there were things I liked about myself. I just allowed my flaws to outshine them.
It really wasn't until my senior year at Williams when I finally stopped caring about my acne and, to some extent, my appearance overall. I was in a digital photography course during my fall semester, and I had a project to complete where I took photos of myself. I called it "untitled beauty project," and I took headshots of myself without doing my hair and without putting anything on my face (the picture I included with this post is from that album). As I looked through the photos afterwards, I suddenly started to see the beauty that had existed all along. My hair, while not done, was at a level of luscious, wavy thickness that I was able to have naturally. I had lovely, long eyelashes. I had some really cute freckles. My lips were perfectly curved. And my acne wasn't what my eyes were automatically drawn too like I used to think. I had just failed to see this beauty time and time again because I never allowed myself to be a more objective beholder. And yes, I know that inner beauty is arguably more important than outer beauty, but it's nice to look in a mirror or at a photograph of yourself and see beauty there too. I shared the album on Facebook and a brief story of my history with acne, and it was met with super encouraging and enthusiastic responses. I had finally accepted myself for me. And man, did that feel good.
Nowadays, Peter tells me I'm beautiful every day, and I actually believe him most days, which is pretty huge. I only wear coverup when I do my makeup (which is STILL rare, to the point that I'm pretty sure I need a lesson on how to do it properly heh). I didn't put anything on my face for our engagement shoot, anniversary shoot, or Emalyn's newborn shoot. If I'm having a particularly bad acne day, I simply embrace it. I like doing my hair because I don't like when it's frizzy or poofy, but when I'm too lazy, I just tie it up and accept that I'm not having a great hair day. I continue to shave because I simply don't like how my armpits or legs feel when they're hairy - it has nothing to do with what other people think (believe me, I've gone out with hairy legs on multiple occasions and only realized I hadn't shaved after the fact). I stopped waxing my eyebrows and only pluck them when I think they're getting out of hand or are mismatched because that bothers me (the woman I go to for facials has tried to sell me on getting my eyebrows waxed several times but I've politely refused). And I buy clothes that I like, many of which come from inexpensive places like Target, Primark, and Goodwill. I sometimes wish I had come to a place of self-acceptance earlier in life, but I'm so glad that I'm here now. I still struggle with body image issues after being pregnant with Emalyn, but I know it's a work in progress, and it's more about me and how I feel about myself as opposed to caring what others think.
Now, from the end of college up until about two weeks ago, I didn't put much effort into my skincare routine. I had learned to accept myself as I was, flaws and all! Why did I need to bother with that? Well, after being pregnant with Emalyn, my acne flared up in a way that it hadn't done in years, so I decided to start getting a facial every few months to take more preventative measures against acne as opposed to treating existing acne (it was also an act of self-care, a way to get out of the house and take a break from being on mom duty for an hour and a half). I've continued to do that, but I also developed a more rigorous skincare routine two weeks ago, and it's all thanks to a TikTok mom I follow. Watching her get ready with me videos and seeing her prioritize her face every morning and evening and how therapeutic it seemed is honestly what inspired me to start doing so myself. I realized I can still accept my struggles with acne while also making sure I'm doing what I can to take good care of my skin. It's honestly an act of self-care too - I look forward to waking up and cleaning my face first thing in the morning, and cleaning it at night is a way for me to start winding down from a busy day. All that is to say I'm thoroughly enjoying it. : )
There are still plenty of days when I don't feel beautiful (Peter tries his hardest to convince me otherwise, but some days I just feel like a hot mess, and there's unfortunately not much he can do about it lol). But that's okay, because deep down, I know I am. I'm made in His image, after all.
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