How My Im(perfect) Skin Changed My Life
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Health and Wellness

How My Im(perfect) Skin Changed My Life

…having blemishes is human…and being human is beautiful.

How My Im(perfect) Skin Changed My Life
Victoria Gallo

Ever since I was a young girl, my skin had always been clear.

Yeah, sure, I had breakouts here and there, but overall, acne or blemishes were never huge concerns for me. People always complimented me on how clear my skin was or how I never had acne. These kind words had always made me feel special…like the pimple pixie had slept in for a day and never casted my acne curse…we’ve all had one of those lazy days.

I’d always assumed that my luck in the skin department had been given to me by my dad. I’m a twin. Look wise, my sister is a replica of my mother, while I’m the female version of my father. My mom always says that my father and I are the same person, and to be frank, I can’t tell why. Other than the fact that we relate on so many levels, look so much alike (We even have a birth mark on our noses in the same exact place.), and share so many of the same characteristics, I can’t tell what would make her think that. Anyways, if (according to my mom) God basically took my father and photocopied him to create me, why wouldn’t I expect to get my clear skin from him too?

This summer was interesting to say the least. My sister, best friend, and I all worked at a summer camp from June to August. My face was burnt all of the time. I had originally thought the red under my eye was just temporary and the result of running after 20 seven-year-old slime making machines everyday (seriously kids are obsessed with slime). As time went on, to my dismay, the redness spread. The red spot on my face got bigger and eventually appeared on my other cheek. The redness isn’t horribly noticeable at all (yes, I am very dramatic), but for someone who had clear skin her entire life, I was devastated. I felt like the world was acting in reverse. My blemished and pimply face was supposed to flare up back in middle school when I ran a One Direction fan account and rocked Limited Too Capri pants… you know...those awkward stages of life! This wasn’t supposed to happen when I’m almost 20 years old and trying to be taken seriously as a woman!

The dermatologist told us it was a slight touch of Rosacea. I turned to my mother at that moment in surprise. Rosacea was not new to the Gallo family. She’s been a friend of my mom’s ever since I can remember. (If you don’t know what Rosacea is, it’s basically a skin condition that causes redness on the face.) That day after the dermatologist appointment, I recalled how my mom would always share stories about people telling her she had skin so fair and clear she resembled a porcelain doll. This correlation made me stop feeling sorry for my skin and realize something important.

My entire life, my mom and I seemed different in many ways. She has an amazing, contagious laugh that makes anything seem funny. She is always punctual and prepared like a dedicated Girl Scout on a mission to sell the most Samoas in the troop (because, c’mon, Samoas are the best). She also has beautiful hazel eyes. On the flip side, my laugh is loud and booming, I was a failed Girl Scout that was too shy and awkward to sell any of my own cookies, and my eyes are dark brown, hazel’s angsty sister. Rosacea, or any skin condition, may seem like a hassle or something to be upset about, but I’m not upset (anymore)…I’m weirdly grateful. This problem I had originally thought ruined the beauty of my face made it look like someone who embodies the word “beautiful” inside and out. (This may sound way artsy-wannabe writer, but what do you expect from an ex-English major?)

What I’m trying to say is that everything happens for a reason. Maybe my clear skin was there to boost the confidence of the insecure seventh grade girl I used to be who barely spoke a peep in class, let alone to the boy I liked for years. My rosy cheeks are here now because I can handle not having perfect skin. I am older and mature enough to realize having blemishes is human…and being human is beautiful. My Rosacea is beautiful because I finally am able to resemble my mom, someone I never thought I would.

Food for thought: Think about the problems you’ve come across in your life. Although hard to deal with, is there any good that came out of them?

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

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