The nice way to describe my skin is “porcelain,” but in truth, I’m naturally as pale as can be. Having pale skin isn't bad, but if you’re just as pale as I am then you know what’s it like to go through these six things all too often...
1. Oh so clever nicknames.
Didn’t realize Casper the Ghost was coming to your party? I must be named Elmer because of my pasty skin? My skin tone is the exact shade of any character in Twilight fan fiction (including the glittering in the sun because I'm majestic)? Say what you like, but if this were a few centuries ago, my skin tone would have been all the rage.
2. Deciding on the right blush or highlighter.
Which one is going to make me look like I’m not sick, but also doesn’t completely change my skin tone on my face? How much of it do I need to use to make my face look glowing and healthy but doesn’t make me have Raggedy Ann’s red-dotted cheeks? Sometimes you just have to take a risk trying different shades. I typically stick to mauve looks and light pinks.
3. Being asked if you’re sick.
If I’m not wearing too much makeup, this is a common question -- especially if just the day before someone sees me with a full face of makeup,only to see my cousin strolling along the next day. No, I'm not sick, I’m just not wearing my makeup. Some days I don’t have time to throw on more than foundation. There’s always someone to remind me of how deathly I appear or how little effort I put into my lazy last-minute outfits. Heck, sometimes even when I do wear more makeup, the question still pops up. You can’t win.
4. Being asked if you go outside.
I actually have everything I need delivered to me via drone to the tower I’m locked in. This is the future.
5. Being told to go outside.
Contrary to my sarcastic remark above, I do in fact go outside. I just like to take care of my skin by putting on sunscreen so I don't look like the Dancing Lobsters from the "Amanda Show." Also, in 20 years I'll still have my youthful glow.
6. Blinding people at the beach or the pool.
Worrying about the sun alone blinding you isn’t your only issue. It has gotten to the point where I’ll walk outside in a bathing suit and people can’t look at me because I’m so bright. Even when they don’t outright say it, the squinting and looking away while we’re having conversations says it all. I should really come with a warning label of some sort, like "Don't look directly into the skin," the way people are advised not to look directly into sunlight. On a related note, I'm impossible to find in blankets of snow.
