Chronicles Of A Stay At Home Mom: acne aging getting older looking young scarring
by Mommy Hobbies
In my napsack stash
I would say that I’m sort of the poster-child for a youthful face. I joke about how my family had to have sipped from the fountain of youth centuries ago and I’m still living off the the faint trickle that runs through my family’s genes.
Me. A mommy of two. I’ll be a thirty-something mommy of two married for almost ten years at the close of this year *sigh*. I remember when I was 18, I couldn’t wait to turn 31 so I could hear how people react when I told them my age. My mind couldn’t fathom that perhaps someday I would lose my youthful look. Well, the other night, I was speaking with someone and my age came up. They guessed me at 30. My heart sunk like a little pebble. Really?? Did I finally, finally lose the look of youth?? My heart was a little broken. And, to be honest, I didn’t expect that I would care all that much if people started to peg my age. But over the next couple of days I found myself in front of the mirror, examining my skin, the wrinkles around my eyes, looking for grey hair. Seriously! Hah. Age can start messing with your mind.
After assessing the situation, I came up with an answer. Stress. It was the stress that aged me. My skin took a huge beating. I battled acne for a year and I’m still trying to recover from it. My smooth caramel colored skin began to get mottled with the constant appearance and disappearance of stress pimples. My face was a complete embarrassment but there was nothing I could do. The pimples wouldn’t stop.
Finally, around August of this year, my face stopped producing pimples in mass quantities. I started using vitamin E oil in the evenings to help with the scarring. Slowly, the dark spots around my chin started fading. Recently, my intake of water has tripled and that has definitely contributed to the recovery of my skin.
But yesterday was the sunshine in my sky, because someone told me I could pass for 19…I think I glowed a little after she said that. Later that evening, I told David, “Well, honey, all is well with the world, because someone told me I looked 19.” He laughed. He knows how much I’ve anguished over the beating my skin took. I’m not a vain person by nature, I’ve never really cared all that much about how I look. Half the time, I don’t use a mirror and I have been known to wear my shirts backward on accident. Truth. My methods have always been a little abnormal. I’ve never minded telling people my weight or age. I just don’t care.
So, for my skin to be on the mend, it feels nice. It won’t ever be the same again. There are light markings and it’s not smooth, but my face is no longer riddled with red
pimples and people are guessing me under 20 again. Let the world start spinning again. Misha is back to normal.