i've had bad skin ever since i can remember. it was on and off in high school, worse than some people, better than others. it wasn't until the middle of college or so that my acne really came into its own, though. adult acne is, well, it's not fun. it's not leukemia or HIV or 3rd degree burns or anything but it is something. it doesn't help when other people try to give you perspective or tell you that they don't notice it. because, like body image, it has to do with how i feel and what i see - not you. i don't let people touch my face. i know it's going to be oily and that you can feel the scars. i never liked people looking at my face much either. i didn't even like looking at my face.

i always hated what i saw in the mirror. it wasn't a case of some days i looked good and some days i didn't. as far as i was concerned it was bad skin day or worse skin day. it didn't help that people thought it was okay to tease you about it. not people i loved, but assholes who wouldn't dream of making fun of someone with a birthmark or a scar from an accident on their faces, but who see acne (like being overweight) as fair game because it is seen as something you can control. like, i look the way i look 'cause i don't wash my face or something. but i do. i take better care of my skin than anyone i know and i have for years. it's genetic and i can't do anything about it. i can keep my face very clean, not eat a lot of sugar, and load up on the protein. but all this only just helps a little. i have used every medication (oral and topical) known to humankind. nothing worked. i just have to wait for it to go away.

i was always told that i looked very young for my age and i was well into my 20s and still being asked for my ID at rated R movies. people assured me that this was desirable and that looking younger was what everyone wanted. yeah, i don't think so. it's one thing to be 29 or 30 and have people think you're still in college. that's nice. when you're 24 and people think you're 16? that's not nice. that's not because you look young and full of life. it's because you have a face like a pepperoni pizza and couldn't possibly be an adult.

it also doesn't help that villains in movies and books a lot of times have acne scars. i can't count how many times i've been reading a novel where the criminal or the pervert or the gutless wonder is described as being "pockmarked." from romance novels to the leader of the scorpions in grease ("crater-face!"), you can tell they're bad on the inside by how they look on the outside.

one day i heard these idiotic morning DJs talking about which celebrities they thought were hot. one of them inevitably said brad pitt. while i voiced my approval out loud to myself (there was no one else in the car), the other woman made some remark about thinking he was gross. when asked to elaborate she said that he had acne scars and that alone took him out of the running. i was appalled. yes, the women were picking which guys were attractive to them, which is completely subjective. but the shallowness of her shallowness really needled me. i started liking people more if i noticed they had acne scars. my love for brad pitt quadrupled. i also noticed david boreanaz ("angel") shares my pain. these people will always have a place in my heart for no other reason. i'm not saying we need an advocacy organization or group therapy, but a little common courtesy wouldn't hurt.

author and professor dr. regina barreca has a website with archives of her essays. one of the essays she has up permanently is one called skin deep in which she discusses having bad skin for her whole life. it was the first time i had ever read anything about it and it made me feel good. she and i both know it's not the worst thing in the world and that in the grand scheme of things, bad skin isn't too important. but it still affects out lives.

in six months i will be 29; only in the past month or so has my face shown signs of clearing. i'm not saying it's clear, and i'm not getting my hopes up. i don't want to jinx it - but it does seem to be holding so far. as soon as i noticed that my face had stopped breaking out, i started pigging out on chocolate. the fear set in. what if, when my skin finally clears up, i still don't like what i see in the mirror? i know, i'm borrowing trouble, never happy with anything, and any other cliches you can come up with. but still. what if? it's like that episode of friends where jennifer grey guested as rachel's friend mindy and she wanted rachel to be her maid of honor 'cause the friend she was going to ask was bitter 'cause she "lost all the weight and it turns out she doesn't have a pretty face." what if all this time i thought i was unattractive 'cause of the spots but i'm actually just not attractive? i don't know. i don't know if i want to know.

my face is pretty clear as of this writing. so far, i (cautiously) like what i see. maybe some day i will even think i look...nice.