P:S: This is not one of those sugar coated narratives about accepting yourself the way you are.
That said, I woke up yesterday and did a census of the acne on my face, I was heartbroken.
I have enjoyed relatively good skin since I crossed my teens, so when I began to get painful cystic pimples along my jawline, I blamed it on my enemies.
Their last attack was on my waistline, that pouch sent me running, feet touching back of head kind of running, to my core routine.
The acne took over, everywhere apart from my forehead. I decided to try make up, my sister got me some foundation and concealer. I enjoyed the coverage and glow, but I didn’t like what was underneath when I washed it off at night. Besides, it was extra stress for an erstwhile lipgloss wearing girl.
I have answered every question there is as to finding the cause of the breakout.
-They are not period induced
-I am not on contraceptives of any sort
-I am not pregnant
-I am not stressed out (this is not to say I shall refuse if my Boss looks at my face and says, go home for two weeks)
-I have not changed soaps, still my good old baby soap (was convenient, can’t be buying different packets of soap)
-Body Lotion? N/A
-I didn’t change diet. If anything, I started ensuring I didn’t skip meals, I increased my water intake by a lot, began to exercise on the steady. I wouldn’t expect this to reward me negatively.
Kabiyesi smiled at me last night when I whined
“But you are still beautiful, very”
This man that when I was pregnant, with stretchmarks dancing thick black atilogwu all over my hips and back side, told me I was beautiful.
This man that looked at my face half swollen after a dental visit, told me I was beautiful.
This man who when malaria dug my collarbones badly, told me I was beautiful.
This is not bad o, just reiterating that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and he always sees beautiful. This should be good abi? No, if I agree like that, where would my womanity be na?
But you see, when I woke up this morning, I decided it was time to stop fretting over these pimples. I pulled my hair into a bun, so my face was entirely on it’s own without something to hide. I slapped on my red lipgloss and hit the road.
After all, a watched pot never boils.
So I am owning this phase till it is tired and lets go of me.I shall wash my face as I was directed. I pledge to myself, that I shall not spend money on any acne treatments. I pledge to not bother my friends anymore asking for what could help. I pledge to stop the google searches.I pledge to not lower my gaze when it feels like anyone is staring at me longer.
The one last thing I need help with, Mrs. MJ said to me
“Acha, keep your hands off your face!”
So help me God.
After notes: I met these guys with an amazing vision for their new website ‘The musty corner’. Very interesting writes on there. I am pleased to announce that they house a column for me ‘Ekwé…rhythms of a golden pen’ one extra place to read from Achalugo. Ekwe is an igbo musical instrument, the sounds attract you to listen. You can read my first post –How I lost my top four reading spots