Growing up, my skin was at the forefront of my mind. I was the child who had a severe skin reaction that left me with post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation (PIH). The quickest way for anyone to tear me down my spirit and self-esteem for just about anything was to comment on the dark spots on my skin. It became a common thing, to the point where a teacher and family member of mine would point it out as a way to get me back in line for any small indiscretions on my part. I had a fairly good childhood, but the memories of adults and children commenting on something I had no control over left me deep emotional wounds. It took years and almost well into my late twenties to heal.
I was jealous of everyone who had great skin. I always wondered in my younger years, "Why do I have to deal with this?" Of course, that did absolutely nothing. I became fixated on trying to not have my skin noticed, but also very early on tried to not make it a big issue. I mean, what choice did I have?! I lived on a hot tropical island till my late teens, so there was no option to cover up completely. I saw every dark spot, every look and had to politely answer every question to quickly shut down every conversation. My skin didn't stop me from wearing a swimsuit and enjoying the beach as much as my friends, but it surely made me hyper aware of others' judgments, and to avoid that, I dressed to cover my legs as much as possible.
As I got older and moved away from my home country to the US, I must say I was happy to have a fresh start. Living in the northeast with three quarters of the year spent in clothing that covers most of the body, I was happy. I no longer felt the anxiety that I once had, because there was nothing to see. This allowed me to find treatments for my skin to reduce the hyperpigmentation. It was a time of trial and error and even body make up to feel better about wearing that knee length dress. I had never worn short shorts in my life and it took till my mid twenties to try on and wear out in public my first pair of shorts.
They say your brain doesn't full mature till about twenty-five. Well, that was right around the time that I came to the conclusion that I did not have to live in perpetual anxiety or in fear of the judgment of others. As much as I enjoy a more conservative style, I was ready to let go and feel free to wear what I like in spite of the length. By that time my skin had gotten significantly better, and if it required a small brush of body powder, so be it. I just knew that I was no longer willing to be restricted by something that once caused me so grief.
One outfit at a time, I slowly began to build my confidence in my appearance. My self esteem is not completely tied to my appearance, but it is a contributing factor. We all care about how we look and to say the opposite is a clear untruth. I just had to realize that it was okay to make modifications to better ourselves for our own acceptance. I am happy to have arrived at that place in my mid twenties, because I know how a negative self image can damage one's spirit. As a mother of two little girls, I do everything I can to build their confidence and teach them that the best love is radical self-love. If not for me, at least for them.
What self esteem issues did you or do you struggle with or have overcome?
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