The day I got my Beauty Blender was one of the most important days of my life. Looking back now, I don't know where I would be without it, or who I actually was. I'll never forget the memories I made dampening my rigid Beauty Blender until it could expand to its full potential, and can't imagine what I had done with my face before I owned one. The softness of the sponge and the silkiness of my matte, vaguely named foundation for medium skin tones combined, created the perfect concoction of flawlessness to hide my oversized pores and uneven redness.

However, when I went home this spring break for 10 whole days, I opened my makeup bag to discover that I had left my Beauty Blender in my college dorm. The horror that I experienced was worse than the AP Calculus test where I had to find the decay of Plutonium in Chernobyl after missing a week of school. All I could do was worry about my most prized possession sitting by itself in the dark for ten, long days, with no one to apply foundation on.

But then, I began to worry for myself. I had become so dependent on my Beauty Blender that I didn't even know who I was anymore. The young, teenage girl that didn't know anything about makeup that was constantly messing up was coming to the foreground and I started to doubt my skills. It was then that I realized that I was left on my own to fight my battles. I could no longer cower behind my fears of a streaky foundation application or spots of foundation left unblended. The flawless and quick application was a luxury I could only afford in the past, and I was left to my own devices. That was when my struggle for self-reliance began. I reached for what I could; brushes, silicone based items, even my own fingers but nothing could compare to my most prized possession.

One day, as I was struggling to blend out the streaky lines on my face with my bare hands, I realized that it doesn't matter. Somehow, over the past couple of days, my lack of Beauty Blender wasn't noticeable to others around me. The fear I had of being exposed for not using a sponge to do my face makeup was anxiety of my own, and not of relevance to everyone else's daily lives. It was then that I could shed my caked foundation to reveal one who used whatever she wanted to and only put on makeup for herself. I had finally dropped the shackles that my Beauty Blender restrained me with and could express myself freely. It was that day that I realized that I didn't need my Beauty Blender, my Beauty Blender needed me.