Red Is My Favorite Color… But Not On My Skin

My blemishes are only skin deep. My skin won’t stop me because….

I hate it, but It’s mine. It’s the only one I’ll ever have.

I have extremely sensitive skin. My hair touches my neck, and I break out in blotchy red spots. Wearing a necklace?  Blotchy red spots. Give someone a hug? You guessed it! Blotchy red spots!

Recently I went to Hawaii to see family. While there I got sun poisoning, but couldn’t really feel it… all I saw were little red bumps.  Then I got devastating news which led to stress, and I broke out in hives. My arms, my neck, and my chest were covered in big red circles for two days. I felt like less of myself. I felt that the marks on my skin defined who I was… but then I thought about people with worse skin problems than me. I realized that if I don’t look at myself any different,  why should I expect someone else to look at me different just because of huge red bumps?

I have always has sensitive skin, and most of you will think that having sensitive skin doesn’t compare to skin diseases, but trust me, you’ll think I have a skin disorder after seeing how bad it gets. When my skin breaks out, some people decide to point it out to me as If I don’t already know. I get embarrassed and try everything to cover it up. I don’t wear turtle necks, but the second someone tells me I’m breaking out I all of a sudden feel the need to buy one and bury myself in it.

Feeling comfortable in your own skin is one of the hardest things to do, especially when you have blemishes or huge red marks, maybe even birthmarks that you consider too big. The truth is that no one has perfect skin. Nope… no one.  Every single girl you see on the cover of a magazine is the result of Photoshop. The girl in the magazine doesn’t even look like the girl in the magazine.  So why strive to be her?

The more chemicals you put on your face, the worse it will get… I’ve tried acne medicine and blemish removers and almost every product known to man, and with my sensitive skin, it makes me break out. I have used baby oil and baby lotion. I have tried natural substances from the ground, such as the very dirt we walk on. I have tried the strongest stuff you can think of, and whether the bottle says that it is for sensitive skin or not, I still end up with a huge pimple the next morning….so, I stopped using these products.

Recently I decided that my skin is my skin for a reason. If I were meant to be more tan, I would be. If I were meant to be blonde, I would be. If I were meant to have blue eyes, I would. If I were meant to have no freckles, I would. BUT that isn’t me and I am content with knowing that I have scars and blemishes. That I do break out on contact with anything.  That I don’t have a hickey on my neck… It’s actually another blemish.  (Thanks for your concern, Mom)

Your skin is yours for a reason. To do such a thing as to wish you had a different set of skin is unreasonable. There is a difference between feeling uncomfortable in your own skin and someone making you feel that uncomfortable in your own skin.

Your skin doesn’t define the kind of person you are. It just protects the heart you have on the inside and accepts the external damage.

I know in the beginning I said that I hated my skin, but I don’t hate it. I hate the way I look at it. And unless you think your skin is beautiful, you should too.

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