Ah, acne….the bane of my existence. The one part of my life that I just cannot seem to tackle. I feel like I have been in a decade long tennis match with an opponent who never gets tired. You see, since the wee age of 12, cystic inflammatory acne has been my unwelcome company, creeping up at the most inopportune times. And just when I think I have it figured out, it rears its bigger, smarter and uglier head, ready to battle it out on precious facial real estate. Now, I’m not referring to the hormonal acne that is accepted as the norm during the not so pretty years of teen-hood and puberty. Oh, I wish the door to my pimple farm (new pimples harvested daily!) was permanently closed at the onset of my twenties. But alas, I have not been so lucky.
I have the kind of acne that presents as angry little mountains that are bright red in colour and full of pus. They bleed easily, spouting wherever they please, leaving behind lovely little divets in my once smooth skin. A hyper-pigmented kiss, you might say. This kind of acne continues to wreak havoc not only on my skin but on my entire self-concept. And I. Am. Done. With. It. I one hundred percent recognize that on the spectrum of disease severity, there are much worse things than acne. But it’s ability to damage one’s self-esteem and mental health makes it, in my eyes, severe in its own right.
Going through my teen years with cystic acne consumed me. I grew up feeling so uncomfortable in my own skin, doing anything and everything I could to hide my face from others. I averted eye contact, got ready in the dark, developed a love for large scarves that I could hide behind and fell in love with the art of makeup. Taking photos made my skin crawl as they were a constant reminder of how far I was from where I wanted to be. My mum has beautiful dewy smooth skin. Her first pimple was in her 50’s folks. Pair that with my two older sisters who both won the genetic lottery for clear skin, and it’s not hard to imagine why I often felt like the ugly duckling in my teen years. Cursed with bad skin and an even worse teenage attitude because of it.
I have been on Accutane three times, and if you’ve been on it, you know how rough it can be: cracked and bleeding lips, peeling and sun-sensitive skin and very depressed mood, just to name a few. I’ve been on countless courses of antibiotics. Years of Diane 35, a birth control pill specified for acne therapy. Steroids. Blue light therapy. Red light therapy. Chemical peels. Microdermabrasion. Dermarolling. Microneedling. Pixel Laser. Topical solutions and creams of all kinds. Chinese medicine. Indian Ayurvedic creams and concoctions. Homeopathic pills. Strict diet plans that never stuck. Medical grade skincare lines. Cortisol injections into individual pimples…ouch. You name it, I’ve done it. To say having acne is expensive and exhausting would be an atrocious understatement.
In need of a more positive outlet, I turned to makeup early on. It became my refuge and saving grace. I spent time learning techniques to not only hide my acne but also enhance my own features. I finally felt like I had some control over my skin, and this was the beginning of a slow and arduous path to self-acceptance and love.
I have seen many physicians in my pursuit of clear skin. I’ve had some terrible interactions that have left me feeling defeated and hopeless. One dermatologist laughed hysterically (I am not exaggerating…this was only a few years ago) while I cried about the then-current status of my skin. I met one that was so arrogant he made me feel utterly insignificant and unworthy of his time. I could go on for a while with these stories. These moments are permanently etched in my memory as a reminder of what not to do. People don’t forget their mistreatment folks, remember that.
Now enough with the bad, and on to the good: I met Dr. Katz, a phenomenal dermatologist, at the age of 14. He would continue to be my go-to dermatologist for nearly 7 years until he retired (I think I cried the day he told me he was retiring). He gave me hope and reassurance when I was at my most vulnerable. His bedside manner and care for his patients is something that I still think about. He was a big reason as to why I started to seriously consider medicine. His impact on me was so profound that I decided I wanted to instil this hope and positivity in others in a way only a physician can. And through all my negative experiences, I knew exactly how NOT to treat my patients.
Fast forward to the present, I am 25 years old and still being clutched by the grips of acne. In fact, my skin is flaring out of control at the moment. It’s the worst it has been in a few years. I’ve found that since I hit my twenties, my diet and stress levels have much more of a role in my breakouts. Something I was surprised that more dermatologists didn’t address with me. My once completely clear back has suddenly erupted, and I wish I could tell you I have handled all of this well. But that would be a lie. I still have days where I avidly avoid my reflection in the mirror and prefer to hide in bed. I have a mini break down every time my skin erupts. I’m not as confident as I want to be. I still sometimes feel like the ugly duckling. I am nowhere near perfect with my diet. I often fall into the trap of comparing myself to others, which is all too easy to do with the accessibility of social media. But despite all of this, I am grateful for these experiences. They have made me so much stronger and more resilient. They have helped push me in the direction of medicine. They have given me insight into life as a patient. I know I am still a work in progress, but I am ok with that. I’m taking each day as it comes and trying to be a better version of myself. Learning to be patient and more forgiving with myself.
I am at a point in my life where I am embracing change in every direction. My surgery in July gave me a new perspective of gratitude. I am finally committing to making myself and my health a priority. And for me that means committing to an anti-inflammatory lifestyle. What that means is focusing on eating whole, unprocessed foods that are high in nutrients and antioxidants, kicking preservatives, cutting dairy, weaning myself off of sugar and avoiding gluten. It means learning to make substitutions for my favourite foods (I’m a chip fiend) and figuring out how to make these substitutions without sacrificing my active social life. It means no longer compromising on sleep, no matter how much is left on my to-do list. And being more proactive and aware of my stress levels. Not feeling guilty when I know I could use a mental break. Reminding myself that the worst case scenario often ISN’T the worst case, there is always a way. And heck if I learned anything from my surgery, it’s that life is too short to sweat the small stuff.
As I read and listen to more podcasts about anti-inflammation and skin, one concept has really resonated with me and I want to share this with all of you reading: while inflammation in any form is frustrating, it is a sign that something is not right in your body. It is a little red flag that something needs to change before a more serious chronic disease sets in. We currently live in a highly processed, high stress, highly polluted world where we often value ease over wellness. So instead of thinking of acne as the enemy, think of it as a blessing. Because had I never had acne, I may never have whole-heartedly committed to a lifestyle that prescribes whole, unprocessed foods, true stress management and sleep as medicine. My acne may be saving me from a future of chronic disease, rooted in years of inflammation.
So today I am beginning this journey of anti-inflammation! Having met with my skin care coach this morning, I’m finally feeling a level of commitment and motivation that I have been lacking the last few months. I am looking forward to sharing this journey with all of you, yet I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about it. I actually felt less anxious about sharing my vulnerability as a patient during my craniotomy experience. The thought of posting my unedited, angry skin for the internet to see is particularly unnerving. But if sharing my journey helps even one person, then I whole-heartedly believe my discomfort is worth it. If you are reading this and also suffer from acne, know that you aren’t alone! It does get better. There are things you can do to feel more in control (makeup/hair style/diet/skincare tips coming soon!). And remember, all of these hardships build your own life experience and resilience.
I am excited to embark on this journey to clear skin and I hope to have you along for the ride! 🙂
SINCERELY MILLIE 