I’m deathly afraid of pimples. Ever since the outbreak of 2009, I have treated every spot and blemish on my face the way a homing missile would treat its target. I have obsessed over every irritation, dousing it with soap and astringent before it could develop into a full-grown facial irk. So it’s really quite annoying that the one time I decide to take better care of my face – cleansing, moisturizing and all that shit – pimples pop out. I doled out cash to have my skin break out. Huzzah.
I was better off with my old facial regime, the one where I did nothing. No creams, no soap, no cleansers. In high school, I never got the pimples. Everybody else around me was indulging in papaya soaps and facials. The worse I got from the adolescent hormonal onslaught were a bad set of growth hormones that only got me as high as 5 feet.
On hindsight, I should have stuck with what I was born with. Never fix something that isn’t broken, they say. I’m bashing myself with a mental hammer for messing around with skin care catalogues and listening to kikay ladies talk about investing in your face for the future.
But the body has its own way of taking care of itself. I don’t think we should mess around with something that has a way of getting things done. Faces are meant to sag and become crinkly. We are meant to be old, yes?
For now, I’m done with facial care. I’m going to stick with what my mama gave me. Once my pimples clear up, I’m letting my face (and body) be. I don’t have one kikay bone in my body, so really, why force it?
Dear face, forgive me. I just wanted to be pretty, too.
I was better off with my old facial regime, the one where I did nothing. No creams, no soap, no cleansers. In high school, I never got the pimples. Everybody else around me was indulging in papaya soaps and facials. The worse I got from the adolescent hormonal onslaught were a bad set of growth hormones that only got me as high as 5 feet.
On hindsight, I should have stuck with what I was born with. Never fix something that isn’t broken, they say. I’m bashing myself with a mental hammer for messing around with skin care catalogues and listening to kikay ladies talk about investing in your face for the future.
But the body has its own way of taking care of itself. I don’t think we should mess around with something that has a way of getting things done. Faces are meant to sag and become crinkly. We are meant to be old, yes?
For now, I’m done with facial care. I’m going to stick with what my mama gave me. Once my pimples clear up, I’m letting my face (and body) be. I don’t have one kikay bone in my body, so really, why force it?
Dear face, forgive me. I just wanted to be pretty, too.
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