This morning I woke up and there was a pimple on my chin, the most hurtful, hateful little pimple known to mankind. It was not there last night, and yes I know I didn’t wipe my face before falling asleep facedown in my pillow but it still does not warrant it being there does it? Its like a total invasion of my life.
I spent one hour in front of the mirror wondering how I could consciously uncouple with this pimple… I am still contemplating. But whilst at the mirror I saw another spot on my neck, this one smaller but there none the less. As you can imagine this sent me on a downward spiral of checking out my whole body looking for every alien spot that had taken residence without prior notice.
You see, I know all my spots and the time they are going to make an appearance, its often when I am in a murderous mood, craving sweet things and diet coke, that time when nothing fits and water just keeps coming out of your eyes; PMS. So I know these guys and they know me, I know where they’ll be staying and how long for. We go through the cycle of live and let live and before I know it, they are gone only to return in another 28 days or thereabouts. So I’m cool with that because I know, they know and everyone is happy in that knowledge. What I am not cool with, however, are the ones that just make a random appearance because you know… they feel like it and that’s what the spot on my chin is this morning- An Intruder.
I continued my spiral down the rabbit hole, re-evaluating my life choices and beating myself up because I am not living my “best life” per Oprah. I mean my diet could use a little help, I could do with drinking more water, try to get more sleep, exercise more consistently, moisturise daily and twice a day, cleanse before bedtime, use better products etc. I trawled blogs searching for products for my skin type etc. etc. I mean, I’m fortunate in the sense that I hardly wear makeup so my skin gets a chance to breathe, I don’t use foundation, never had to, (humble brag) but I would if I knew just what I was doing… you know. So when it comes to skin and spots, my poor diet considering, I’m touchwood lucky. That’s not to say my face is smooth, no its not, I have these particular set of spots beneath my eyes inherited from my mother and freckles from my grandmother but thanks to my brown skin its not obvious and I long since made my peace with them after trying several beauty products, most not cheap, to get rid of them all to no avail.
Back to these unwanted guests checking into my hotel unannounced, making me obsess unnecessarily, questioning myself and having me make lists of new life goals that include; get better skin, trawling through blogs searching for better beauty products that would restore balance and centre my life…and then out of nowhere, I started humming Pretty Hurts. I know right?! So cliché but so damn apt! There is something about that song that makes you snap! In a good way as if its telling you to get your shit together and get over it because shit happens and that’s just life. Life is not perfect, we as human beings can never be perfect and that is more than perfectly okay. Today its spots, tomorrow its blemishes next weak it’ll be gone for a moment. We’re flawed, we’re human…ladies tell ’em.