This is for all you clear-skinned angels out there, or even you trouble-skinned ones (because I know I automatically judge sometimes too...even after all I've been through). Stop judging people off of the quality of their skin. They probably had a sad and excruciating past with it, I know I sure did, and I think that if people knew at least a little bit of it, they would internally judge me less. Here's part of my journey:

I remember my first pimple. This might be a weird thing to remember, but I remember it probably because I was very young. I was in third grade, was sitting on the bus, and touched the side of my cheek. I felt a sore bump, but didn't think much of it. Later that week my older friends were giving me a "makeover" (the typical elementary school hangout activity) and noticed it. They had said, "Oh my god is that a pimple?! You have a pimple and you're in third grade?! How is that even possible?!" Well, it is possible. My skin's quality went downhill from there.

Sixth grade was where it really started to get bad. I had no idea what to do about my skin. I would have scabs on all parts of my face, and sore bumps on my forehead, which would hurt very badly whenever I would scrunch my eyebrows up. Acne sucks, plain and simple. I clearly recall in seventh grade, running to the bathroom during study hall to look at my face in the mirror, which led to massive amounts of tears. I would pull out my cheap drugstore CoverGirl powder that I bought with my own money when my mom dropped us off at the local mall, and would try to make myself look at least a little bit presentable. Obviously, it didn't work. I would legitimately sit in the bathroom stall and quietly sob to myself before I would eventually pull myself together, count down the hours left in school, and make my way back to class. It's just so embarrassing, you know?

If you've never had acne you're probably like, oh, no big deal. Yeah right. Acne changed me and my personality. I wouldn't look people in the eye when I was talking to them, my hair would cover half my face, I would avoid taking pictures, and would decline invitations to almost anywhere. I would steer clear of bright rooms and would never EVER look into a mirror in a well-lit bathroom. On to high school, I developed pretty awful anxiety and would throw literal temper tantrums in my bathroom at home. There are too many times that my mom would have to come upstairs and drag me out of the bathroom and try to calm me down. It never worked. My parents ended up driving me to school late on numerous occasions, which resulted in one or two detentions, just because I would take forever to make myself feel okay enough to get to school.

There are so many specific occasions I remember about my skin issues during high school. Too many to tell all of them, but I'll share a few. One day, I was on the bathroom floor again, sobbing about my skin and how terrible it looked. My mom had left for work so my dad would have to drive me to school. I was definitely not planning on going to school that day, but my dad was not in the mood to put up with me (who can blame him?). He drove me to school (this is ninth grade by the way), while I was crying my eyes out. He dropped me off at school, somehow getting me out of the car. I signed into school and went to class, still crying, left for the bathroom, and cried the rest of the class period. Another time that year, I caught a look at myself right when I got to school in the hallway mirror. I immediately freaked out and went to the nurse to tell her that I felt sick. I went home and cried until I fell asleep that night. One day during eleventh grade, I woke up and was just not having it. I knew that I had to go to History class during last period to take a quiz that could't be made up. I also had a volleyball game after school. Listen to how skewed this is. I missed all of school except for the last hour, went to History, and I couldn't play in my game because I had missed more than half a day at school. That is literally how much my problematic skin impacted my life.

I cannot tell you how many times I've been to the dermatologist, how many different pills, lotions, gels, tablets, caps, washes, scrubs, creams, and so on, I have tried to try and clear my skin. No, my skin is not always this bad anymore, but from time to time, I break out badly, and I go back to my middle school/high school self. I cry and get upset. Forget about looking in any mirrors or opening the front camera on my phone; that's just asking for a meltdown. My mom will receive texts from me while I'm at school that sound something like, "Just had a mental breakdown in the bathroom during class," or "Can't get out of bed, I hate my skin." Of course my anxiety plays an extreme part in my reactions, but I know there are other people with problematic skin out there who feel the same way as me. And we always have those people with perfect skin telling us to "wash your face more" or "stop wearing makeup" or to do something else that we have obviously tried or is just a dumb suggestion.

I have to say, my skin's been pretty good since senior year of high school, except for the occasional mass breakout, similar to the one I'm experiencing now (which is why all of my friends are out and I'm sitting alone in my room). I've cried more than a handful of times this week and my mom has received over half a dozen freak out texts. She already sent me more medication so my skin and mind can hopefully calm down soon.

I need my clear skin back. With my clear skin, I am confident without any makeup on, whatsoever. When I do wear makeup I am not afraid to sweat it off with the fear of exposing disgusting, red wounds on my face. I am not afraid to step into a bright room, look into a mirror, or talk to someone while looking them right in the eye. I let myself speak up in a group, not minding if the attention is on me, or my face. I feel like I can do almost anything when I have clear skin, like get ready for class in five minutes or put my head underwater when swimming. I can walk out of the house with confidence in my skin and my appearance. I let myself live when my skin is blemish free.

I feel like you might have not seen the point of this article. My skin is without a doubt my biggest insecurity, I've had a rough history with it, and have tried very hard to manage it. The process has taken a large toll on my emotions, my parents, my own wallet, and my life in general. So I guess really, I want people to realize how wrong and awful it is to judge others, especially on things that they can't control. It's not fair, and plus, we judge ourselves enough. Of course, as I mentioned before, my case and the way I dealt with my emotions seems pretty extreme, and it was. Not everyone reacts the same way to acne as I did/do, but people have other struggles and insecurities in their lives that they get quite emotional about. Yet, they are still judged for them. So before you talk about someone behind their back, or even think of them in a different light, try to think of how they feel about it themselves, and what they've gone through to deal with their insecurity.