Being in my twenties and learning to accept myself was a challenge. I used to babysit over the summers and it never failed when a little girl would see me and ask “what’s that on your face?” How could I answer without feeling embarrassed or ashamed? There was no perfect answer. My face would always be questioned if not by a little kindergartener then by the random college students sitting across from me in the cafeteria. My face is the first impression I make when I met someone for the first time.
I constantly want to pick a new person’s brain and ask them ‘what was the first thing they notice about me?’ Because when I look in the mirror trying to get ready, my face is the first thing that poses the questions. Omg, is that a new pimple? On my nose? It’s so big, how can someone NOT notice it? All my other features mean nothing.
No matter how white my teeth are or how long my lashes look, my face is the center of attention when it comes to meeting new people. Yes, I will admit due to the self-confidence of how my cystic adult acne scarred my face I had shied away from meeting new people. If I didn’t have a good friend by my side at a party or social event, I would not attend. If someone didn’t approach me first, then there was no way I would approach them.
My thoughts were if you found me so unapproachable due to my face then they weren’t worth talking to. It wasn’t till I joined a small group at school that I realized who crazy I sounded. We had all sat around and taken a personality test. Most of the girls were quiet and shy. Here I was the most outgoing, loud, silly & approachable I’d ever been compared to these girls. One of them asked me why at first it’s so hard to get me out of my shell. It was then that I said it out load.
I had missed out on living because I purposely closed myself off. I didn’t want to get hurt from a remark someone would make about my face. She told me that she had never once thought about my cystic adult acne scarred face. Her first impression of me was how great a listener I was. She was able to just talk to me and I was there for her when she really needed a friend. To think that I had given acne this power all these years.
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