Perfect Imperfections - My Skin

I initially debated saying this perfect imperfection of mine was my face. Then I realized that was too general as it's not my face as a whole I hate because of the grief it has caused me. It's my skin that causes the anguish, mainly because of one thing: acne.

I have been plagued with bad acne since I was about 10 years old, so basically half of my life I have been fighting this stupid demon. My acne has felt like an annoying little gnat that just keeps on coming back. This isn't to say that my situation has not improved over the years, believe me it has, but it just never seems to completely go away. My face used to look like I was attacked by bug bites in concentrated areas on my face. But it was never super bad like I know some people have dealt with. It was just a pain in the rear; a very noticeable pain in the rear.

And it made me want to hide my face. All of the time.

When it came to clearing it up I tried everything. Over-the-counter stuff, prescriptions, Proactiv, you name it and I have probably tried it. They either eventually stopped working, never worked, made things worse, or if they worked there was always some sort of negative that I couldn't handle. Some would dry out my skin so badly that my chin flaked. Badly. As if bad acne wasn't enough my skin made it seem like I had dandruff! Lotions and moisturizers would only work to an extent and could at times make it worse. I will admit that part of this was me not necessarily knowing what products do what and not having the patience to find the right combination. But I have learned now. And I have even tried going to dermatologists for more thorough treatments, but that wasn't effective for me either. There was even one time where a skin doctor prescribed medicine to me after only taking a quick glance at my face. 

I was crippled with embarrassment.

I started experimenting with make-up when I entered middle school, so at age 11. Thankfully, my mom understood my embarrassment and she took me to Sephora to have their consultants help me out After this, I would never go anywhere without at least some sort of concealer or foundation on. It didn't matter if I was just going to Target or going to be out all day. I had to cover my face. I would shy away from going places if I wasn't going to have time to put it on in fear people would stare at my face in disgust. It didn't matter that acne is so common amongst everyone Who would want to be seen with a person like that? Most people never noticed it or took a second look if they did, but I did and that was enough to terrify me of what others would think of me.

Even now I get a little anxious when I leave the house make-up free in fear that people are judging me for my less than perfect skin. But I now know that I am not the only person who deals with it. I have actually been fortunate because I now realize that my skin truly was never that bad. I also understand things that I can personally work on to keep my skin clear; it isn't always about the medicine. Using the right makeup, not always wearing it, keeping my hands off of my face, etc.

My skin is just another 'perfect imperfection' of mine that used to weaken my self-esteem that I have now learned to tolerate and understand. Even if there are still days where it makes me want to cry and pound my fists in frustration. But, then again, I am certain I am not alone in this.

And to prove (to myself more than anyone else) that I am comfortable in my skin and because I wanted a picture in the blogpost, I give you me facially naked on the internet (sorry for the lighting but oh well):

Until next time.

Xx

Perfect Imperfections - My Smile

*Bloggers note: This was the first ever post on my blog and the first of this series but I didn't like it so I revamped it a little and reposted it. So it you think you've read this before, you may very well have. I'm going to redo all of the posts in this series but I won't delete the old posts until I redo them individually.*

I used to hate myself. I despised myself. This mentality went on for so long that there was a point where there was not one thing I liked about myself. So it was no wonder that I believed no one could like me either. Within the last year I decided to make a change that coincided with my seeking help for my depression and anxiety. I have learned to appreciate all of the things, big/small and/or genuine/superficial that make me who I am and separate me from everyone else.

My perfect imperfections.

I've found that one of the first things people tend to notice when they meet someone for the first time, and contributes to their first impression of said person, is their smile. And what was the number one thing I hated most about myself for basically my whole life? You guessed it, my smile.

Genetically, I was cursed from both sides of the family. This isn't to say both sides of my family have bad teeth, they don't (and there are many people from both sides with GORGEOUS smiles….lucky bastards ;) ), they're just not the strongest of teeth physically. To add on top of that, my mom took antibiotics whilst pregnant with me, and as a result I had marks on my teeth before they even grew in. Weak enamel + 2 years of braces (and some admittedly not so top notch brushing on my part) = calcuim-deposit markings galore on my teeth. Not to mention, I had buck teeth that stuck out with a gap in-between them (Thank goodness for braces).

This lead to me hating to smile. I was embarrassed. It wasn't necessarily the shape of my smile, but what was inside of it if that makes sense. in my mind, people wouldn't like me because of my disgusting smile. Sure, my teeth were straight, and the shape of my smile is quite nice, but who wants to look at someone with a smile that is not pearly white and has marks all over them? Not me.

Fortunately for me, this is the 21st century and there are ways to fix the markings. I didn't go all the way and get veneers because that destroys the real tooth and at my age that it simply not needed, but I did have bonding done. In short, my teeth were roughed/ etched a little and my dentist applied a resin that was similar to my natural color.  It was kind of like getting a filling done in a way. The only teeth I've had done so far have been my front top 6 have and I honestly could not be happier with the results. Even if I don't end up getting anymore teeth bonded, I would probably be okay with that. After all, most people don't see the bottom teeth and those are not nearly as bad as the top were. But it is amazing how much a relatively short appointment, well actually it took 2 appointments for those 6, can change your view of yourself. I honestly remember not being able to stop smiling after I got them done. It wasn't as if they were bright white afterwards, and they still aren't, but there were not any marks. None. Those marks that had made me so self-conscious for years were gone in a few short hours. My teeth were finally one color.

Now, my teeth may not be pearly white but I am no longer scared of what people think when I smile. I don't worry that people are judging me harshly because of what I thought was a disgusting smile. 

I've learned to be proud of my smile. My smile may not be perfect, and it may still not be
pearly white", but it is me. And dammit I like it.

This is my 2nd grade yearbook picture. Those teeth speak for themselves.

 Seventh grade mere weeks before those braces came off and I realized how bad the marks on my teeth were, in part due to the fact that I constantly had power-chains on my braces. 

And this is me now.