I think I got my first zit in fifth grade. My parents both struggled with acne in their teens, so they knew that it was going to be inevitable for me. I’m not sure what kind of health insurance my parents had at the time, but my frugal, busy mother immediately took me to a dermatologist for my first skin-related prescription. Over the years, I was put on many different pills. I was given all sorts of prescription-strength creams. I washed my face with scrub pads and astringent cleansers. And I still had acne.
As my skin got worse, leaving the house without makeup was not an option. I slathered on foundation and coverup and read every teen magazine article on makeup tips. Even when camouflaged, though, my zits were always on my mind. I felt ashamed. My face was the first thing people saw about me, and every day I wished mine was different.
Then, in college, I bought Mary Kay facial cleanser from an entrepreneurial friend of mine, and what had already been an embarrassing problem suddenly became ten times worse. The acne I got from this experience was intense and scarring, and not even makeup could cover it.
Finally, I switched to using the expensive Proactiv system, which seemed to get things settled down. The soap was so strong that it bleached my washcloths and pillow cases. And it was expensive. But at least I felt like I could face the world again, albeit with red, pocked cheeks.
Then, at thirty, when I got married and moved to Minnesota, two additional things happened at about the same time: I stopped taking birth control and, in an effort to pursue a more frugal lifestyle, decided I was tired of spending so much money on Proactiv and gave it up. I assumed that since I was older, my skin imbalances had probably corrected themselves over the years. I was well past being a teenager, after all. I believed I didn’t really need these harsh interventions anymore.
I was wrong.
This time, I experienced a severe flare up of acne that was maybe even worse than the one in college. My cheeks and chin and neck were covered in deep, red blemishes that hurt.
It was disturbing to discover that all those chemicals I’d been imbibing and rubbing on my skin for years had only been masking a problem that I still had. It felt like I had been living a lie. It suddenly felt like my skin had been trying to tell me something, for a long time, and I had done everything in my power to ignore it. Silence it. This time, I decided not to turn away and cover it up with more chemicals. I decided to listen.
An idea kept coming to me: that my skin was a part of my body. I don’t know why this seemed so profound, but for a long time, I’d seen my skin as a problem that had to be solved. An isolated issue. Really, though, of course the skin is an organ of the body, connected to all of the other systems like respiration, digestion, and thought.
I searched online for anything and everything I could find on the skin/body connection. I stumbled on the site The Love Vitamin (link), and at first thought it was probably a scam. It’s written by a Canadian name Tracy, and she shares her own struggle with acne. There are a lot of testimonials, and different materials available, and I was desperate, so I started to be convinced. I downloaded the free handout she wrote and started diving into her blogs. She also has an academy option that cost about $200. If I hadn’t also been concerned with money at the time, it would probably have been worth it to speed me along the path to healing. However, the information she provided in her blog was enough to get me started on my own journey of self-mending.
Mostly, I just needed to know it was POSSIBLE. That other people had been able to clear their skin naturally. And her work was so helpful to show me that it was.
I started to understand that flare ups like acne are a sort of warning signal, telling us that something in our body is out of balance. So, in this sense, acne is a gift. It tells us it’s time to pay attention to the state of our health and make adjustments. That something needs fixing.
Looking back, I’m not sure which of the changes I made had the most impact. I switched all of my soaps to sulfate-free options (my shampoo, conditioner, laundry detergent, face wash… everything). I started using essential oils on my skin. I avoided eating soy and dairy while my skin was healing. I took zinc tablets. And, most of all, I believed. I believed my body knew what to do to heal itself. I believed it would tell me what it needed. I implemented everything that felt right and trusted that I was on the correct path and finally relaxed.
And, it worked.
My skin has been clear for years. I just wash it with bar soap I get from the farmer’s market. I put on oils like jojoba and evening primrose when I remember to. There’s probably more I should be doing as far as preventing wrinkles and improving skin quality. But it’s just so lovely to not have to worry about acne anymore. That, to me, is enough.
So, in case you’re desperately searching online for a better solution to your acne, I just wanted to let you know that you’re right. There is another way. A simple way. That acne is nothing to worry about. In fact, it’s something for which to be grateful. It’s an external alert that something internal, which we would otherwise be unable to detect, is out of balance. And the path to healing acne is a path of letting go, of relaxing, of trusting. It’s something I’ll always be thankful for.
design + surrender 