Pimples. Zits. Enlarged pores. If any of those words ring a bell and kinda make you want to hide under your fuzzy blanket, this article is for you. No matter who you are, acne is a burden. It is uncomfortable, can leave lasting marks and scars, and attempting to get rid of it and/or cover it up can be rather pricey. Depending on where the acne is located, it can also be downright embarrassing. Like many people, I have acne and I have struggled with it for a long time. After years and years of pain, embarrassment, and expensive facial treatments, I'm finally ready to accept my face for what it is. It's taken a long time to become comfortable in my own skin, but I'm finally ready to share my story.

I began having acne break-outs in elementary school. As a matter of fact, I was one of the first people in my grade to have intrusive, very apparent acne. Combined with being overweight and getting my first pair of wire-rimmed glasses, there was no "forgetting" that I looked a little...different...than everyone else. I tried everything under the sun to get rid of the painful and embarrassing blemishes on my face. While all the other young girls were shopping for Soft Lips and Jibbitz (because Crocs needed something else to make them even uglier), I was in the "Face & Beauty" aisle at my local Rite Aid shopping for harsh facial cleansers and in my kitchen smearing egg yolk and cinnamon on my face. I hated having my picture taken, so finding pictures of me circa 2007-ish is rather difficult - dare I say nearly impossible.

Trying to seek advice or just someone to commiserate with was almost useless, as I was met by the same string of advice over and over again. "I use warm water, soap, and a wash cloth every day - that works for me! Have you tried that? Have you tried drinking more water? Well, what about Proactiv? Maybe you should...uh...lose a few pounds? It should go away by the time you're, like, 16 or something, so don't worry about it so much." This dance around my appearance was really more insulting than anything, but I tried not to take any of it to heart. I was happy that other people weren't dealing with acne to the extent that I was, and at least they cared enough to even attempt to help what seemed like a lost cause.

And then...middle school happened. Let the record show that I cringed just writing that sentence. We don't talk about the 7th grade, but I will say this and only this: I haven't forgotten those things that were said to, about, or behind me, but you are all forgiven. This led me to start wearing makeup at a pretty young age, and I didn't go a single day without makeup in the 8th grade. And it wasn't just a little foundation and mascara that I was wearing. No, it was the highest of the high-coverage foundations and concealers, cakey powder foundation, thick eyebrows, eyeshadow everywhere, winged eyeliner that reached my temples, and at least two different layers of mascara. All I have to say is thank GOD contouring didn't exist back then.

This isn't to demonize or frown upon makeup. I love makeup products, I love makeup as an artform, I love wearing makeup, and (all things considered) I still wear a lot of makeup. In a lot of ways, makeup has opened up a lot of creative doors for me and helped me feel beautiful when I was met by negativity.

But, back then, I was terrified to leave the house without makeup, refused to be photographed without makeup on, and spent nearly all my money on makeup. Unfortunately, I couldn't really afford higher-end makeup and ended up buying products that weren't right for me and only made my skin worse and worse. Thus ensued a vicious cycle and the Face War that lasted from around 2008 until 2017.

Nearly 10 years later, the Face War has subsided and I have emerged victorious. Here I stand as a proud full-time student at university, part-time employee, sorority woman, friend, daughter, lover of pumpkins and red pandas, and champion of acne. No, I didn't get rid of my acne or find some amazing cure. I still have acne, but when the smoke and debris cleared, I realized that the war I was fighting wasn't against my face at all. It was against myself, in an effort to make myself this perfect, pristine human - the reflection of what I told myself that I could never.

I realized that no amount of high-coverage foundation could conceal how I felt about myself on the inside. For years, I wore that unhappiness on the outside, and it showed. With a lot of help from my family and friends, soul-searching, and self-love, I'm not scared of my face anymore. My acne cannot and will not hold me back.