My rosacea at its best (worst?)

I stood there, staring in the mirror. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I thought. “Right f-in now?”

It was t-minus two hours until he was arriving for the whole weekend, and not one, but two big zits right next to each other on my cheek were red as a Santa costume and protruding like Kim Kardashian’s ass.

“This is only going to get worse,” I thought.

Ah, my skin. Or my bane, whatever you’d like to call it. I dealt with acne from puberty (which started at 10 for me – yeah, my breasts were larger at 12 than they are now) up until college, when I got on birth control pills. The wonder of several years of (mostly) clear skin, even bigger boobs, but oh yeah, a bigger waist to boot (and those fantastic mood swings).

Once I was off the ole’ BC, I didn’t really begin to break out again as much as the redness that had always plagued me (I would never like to know how many times in my life I’ve heard, “It’s so cute that you blush so easily!” Just know that if you ever say it to me, I will secretly want to smack you) started to stick. Yep, little spots of red on this part of my cheek, another one over here on my chin. After years of only wearing foundation when going out for a night on the town, I began to wear it on a daily basis.

I finally figured it out – I have rosacea.

Red Lobster

Behold the power of makeup

For those uninitiated (don’t worry, most people haven’t heard of it, even if they have it), rosacea is a chronic skin disorder “involving inflammation of the cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, or eyelids. It may appear as redness, prominent spider-like blood vessels, swelling, or skin eruptions similar to acne.” There it is, in all its beauty.

Think W.C. Fields, Bill Clinton’s nose, and Renee Zellweger at one random movie opening or another (or just look at the pic of me above). Hopefully, I’ll never have the tissue growth of Fields or Clinton (mostly only occurs in stage 3 for men), but I have permanent blood vessel breakage to look forward to for the rest of my life.

It may not seem like a big deal to people who don’t have it, but having such an obvious skin ailment sitting right on your cheeks ain’t no fun. Especially if you are a holistic health/nutrition educator. I’m supposed to know the tricks to having perfect skin, along with the perfect weight, and the exact secrets to meditating purposefully in 3 minute increments.

Trust me, I’ve tried it all – every supposed diet trick (except I’d probably never be able to give up for the rest of my life caffeine, alcohol, chocolate, eggplant, peppers, curry, vinegar, sugar, grains or any other of the hundred or so possible food triggers – though I have given up each for periods of time), cut back on exercise that I love like dancing and even yoga, because anything that gets my blood pumping gets my capillaries bursting, stayed out of the sun, stayed out of the cold, stayed away from chemicals, done all of the nutritional therapies out there.

Photo: stars alive

Yeah, that’s what they recommend a person with rosacea do – “there is no cure, only a removal of triggers and slowing down progression with treatments.” The treatments western medicine recommends? Long-term, low-level antibiotics, and topical steroids. And I will admit that I tried both, and they didn’t help me. Plus they suck.

The point of all of this is not to go on and on about a disease that most of you will never have to deal with. Point is that I struggle with something I feel is obvious, and have felt makes me less of a person in a way. I feel like it takes away from my beauty, my ability to be trusted for the health information I provide (if I can’t get my skin together, what makes someone else think anything I say is valid?), my sense of self. But as with every hardship we encounter, there is a purpose. And we all struggle with something “negative” that we feel is obvious to everyone else, even when it’s not.

I know that at least part of the purpose is to work with acceptance and self-love.

The Release That Comes With Acceptance

Fifteen minutes before he arrived, I looked in the mirror again, red from all the running around, and I sighed. Those damn zits. I haven’t had zits like those in a long time, and damnit, I wanted to look hot. But I breathed out slowly and recognized, those zits are going to be there whether I like it or not. I can either waste a whole lotta energy on thinking about them (and the inevitable redness that would ensue), or I could enjoy the fact that I was about to partake in a romantic evening.

Check out this photo's powerful comments on Flickr
Photo: dreamglow

Given, he’d probably notice them the second he walked in the door – my cover-up was not working well. But I guarantee, that if I was spending a lot of time thinking about them, he’d feel that and notice them a lot longer vs. I accept that they are there and move on with my life. There is something so beautiful about accepting our imperfections, even if we don’t voice it out loud. And I believe that makes others notice them less, too.

Having imperfections is part of what it means to be human. All too often, our imperfections are simply the flip-side of perfection, if only we can slowly start to see them that way. They contain lessons, for sure, sometimes signs of changes that need to be made – without a doubt – but also educate us on how to move in our bodies in a different way. Sometimes, imperfections such as crooked teeth or a large nose, become our signature beauty. But they only become this if we look at them that way.

And maybe, letting go a bit of the struggle gives way to a deeper humanness that otherwise could not be accessed. So, rosacea, and you zits too, I love you.

I think I’ve found my “signature color.”