I have. It was when I was in my late teens (~19), and, in a nutshell, it was not fun.
Before that, when I was still in high school, my skin was clear and smooth. I still got the occasional pimple, especially on my forehead, but it didn’t get serious until my sophomore year in college.
For one, it hurt. Like, physically hurt. The pimples I had were big and red, and they were tender to the touch, and I remember so clearly how simple things that I take for granted now, like washing my face or putting on sunscreen, became a chore because it hurt to touch my face.
And then when I started taking Accutane in my sophomore year, my face hurt even more because the medication dried out my skin and made it extremely sensitive to sunlight and, surprisingly, even wind.
On sunny, breezy days my cheeks would hurt like a MUTHA. I remember stepping out of my apartment one day, seeing that there was a breeze outside, and wishing that it was socially acceptable to wear a helmet around campus and to lectures.
And of course there was the mental and emotional pain. I got really, REALLY good at hiding behind my hair and under hoodies.
Then there were the comments from people, most of them friends and family who felt like they could say anything about the state of my skin. It was never from strangers. Today I remembered someone mentioning all of my “big old gross pimples” in a picture of us, and it brought back sharp pangs in my heart… Why is it that the people who are closest to us often feel like they have free reign to say hurtful things?
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,
Karen
P.S. I hope this post wasn’t a downer for you. I didn’t mean for it to be. I just know that it was something I went through, and other people probably do too. I hope you have a nice Friday. 🙂 TGIF!
zombie. 
