Breaking Through

Fast forward to eighth grade, my mom started providing me western skincare products that I wasn’t aware how to use, so nothing really helped treat my acne. I used several different cleansers, toners, serums, facial sprays, moisturizers, and sunscreens, but nothing gave me the results I yearned for. Consequently, I felt I was abnormal because I realized no one else but me had acne around that time. I was disgusted with my facial features. No one ever said anything about my acne straight to my face, but it made me consider if people would talk to their friends about how bad of a condition my skin was in. 

From there on, my skin did not get any better, and nor did my feelings toward myself get any better. I continuously looked in mirrors and examined my face, only to find the pimples and texture on my face making a bigger appearance. To solve this “problem”, in ninth grade, I used pimple patches to cover up everything in hopes that I would look better, but once the pimple patches got taken off, I was me all over again.

I watched videos on several different platforms to learn the causes of acne and how to prevent these causes. Nothing worked. I developed a better diet by eating fruits and vegetables at least once a day, drinking a lot of water, and cutting off all sodas, candy, and chocolate. By developing a better diet, it helped form less pimples over time, but not completely.

Mid-ninth grade, I switched to korean skincare after hearing several amazing reviews about it from people online. I learned how to use these products properly and well, but it only lessened the amount of acne I had, not completely got rid of it. I saw all these people with clear and poreless skin using korean skincare, and that made me jealous because I knew how these products influencers recommended weren’t helping me the way it supposedly helped them. 

I developed the nickname “pimple face” from one of my closest friends. Maybe it didn’t seem like it bothered me for the most part, but deep inside, I felt hurt and I didn’t appreciate being called that. To add on, at family gatherings, one of my aunts would comment on my acne and mention how horrible it was and continue to brag about the skincare she uses and how much good it does for her. I never felt the want for a new face up until that moment.

My mom continued to support me and she helped me do more research into what happens beneath the skin that causes my acne and habits I had that could have been a cause. To add on, I had to learn about ingredients in skincare products and determine which ingredients were non-comedogenic and had a low cause of malassezia. Doing deep research, examining my skin, and finding the right products suitable for my skin helped slightly reduce the production of acne, but not entirely. 

Months of improvement and hundreds of dollars spent later, I still have acne, and I still deeply care about the condition of my skin, but I began seeing more people with acne at school and learned how many people went through the same thing I’m still going through. Seeing and knowing this finally made me acknowledge the fact that acne is normal, and I shouldn’t be afraid to show it, because in the end, no one actually cares.