How tragic that we live in a world where coming as you are is seen as utterly unimpressive. Where filters and FaceTune and fillers and photoshop have all taken beauty to such an unrealistic standard that a naked and untouched face is something to be hidden.

I spoke briefly in my last post about how liberating it can be for someone with a former refusal to leave the house without makeup to finally ditch it for good, but didn’t quite do justice what a feat that was for me. Since I was ten or eleven, I struggled with extremely temperamental skin. Being one of the first of any of my friends to go through this, it was that much more obvious and acknowledged by those around me. Your face is one of the few things you can’t just cover up with long hair or clothes or anything, there’s no hiding. I visited dermatologists and tried every different skin care regimen I could find but nothing helped. When you’re in the sixth grade, no one has developed a social filter quite yet so if I was having a particularly bad skin day, it was common for one of my friends or classmates to say something to me about it.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

It sounds so comical as adults with social boundaries to think of saying that to someone as anything beyond a joke, but that was the beginning of a deep-seated insecurity I still struggle with to this day. To see something in the mirror that makes your stomach sink, and then to go out into the world and have someone validate that reaction with the same disgust you feel towards yourself is incredibly disheartening. For me it was my complexion, but for someone else it might be the weight they've gained, or how thin their hair is, or how they're too tall or too short or that their thighs are too thick or anything in between. The sad thing about growing up a girl is that you learn that there are infinite things to feel insecure about and every person has their own set of concerns. Everyone has heard a comment that hit a little too close to home, or someone's observation that has always replayed in their mind.

Fast forward to me discovering makeup for the first time. With a daily routine consisting of heavy drugstore foundation (probably in the wrong color), thick, black pencil eyeliner, and Chapstick, it was definitely not easy on the eyes. Nor was it beneficial to my skin whatsoever (but this isn’t a skincare article, so that’s beside the point). Around 7th grade, I preferred to have bad, cakey makeup over bad, bare skin. Lesser of two evils, and in my mind this was much better than the contrary.

From that discovery onward, there was not a day I went out into the world without doing my makeup first. Granted, over the past decade, my makeup artistry has improved (only slightly) and I graduated from the Wal-Mart beauty aisle to Ulta (for the most part). But, the complex was so deeply ingrained that if I even wanted to go to the gym without makeup I would wear a hat and stare at the ground for the duration of my workout. Or go at midnight when there was sure not to be any familiar faces. It was an incredibly suffocating way to live, quite literally, being afraid to show my face in public.

I recognize that acne, however bad, is a trivial problem to have in the grand scheme of life. It isn’t a debilitating condition and it’s mainly superficial. With that being said, what is real in your mind is real in your life, and this was incredibly, painfully real in my mind. At the worst of mine, I was guilty of extremely negative self-talk, calling myself ugly and every synonym in the book every chance I got. The hostility towards my skin manifested into overall hatred towards my body. It turned into hating my nose because it’s too big and hating my fingers for being too crooked and hating my hair for being too red. In this state of mind, I would be hard pressed to find anything I liked about myself physically. What was real in my mind was

overwhelming negativity, and that became real in my life.

I wish I could say this was a short, adolescent trip through a negative mindset, but truthfully I still visit that place sometimes. Although I've seen drastic improvement in my complexion, the insecurity will always lie right below the surface. On bad days I go right back to wanting to dye my hair and hide my face. I am still guilty of being incredibly hard on myself and being unkind towards myself for things beyond my control.

Up until recently, that is, when I read something that gave me a wakeup call that was like a kick in the ribs.Ironically, speaking about natural beauty, it was a Kylie Jenner quote that opened my eyes to this perspective shift. In an article about her newfound motherhood and her daughter, Stormi. She said it has made her love herself more than ever, and when prompted to elaborate, she said “like my ears, I always felt like they stuck out too far, and now Stormi has the same ears, and so now I love them. ”

While it was such a seemingly insignificant sentence, it changed the way I look at and speak to myself.

I want to have babies one day, and if I’m not mistaken, I have about 50/50 odds of having a little girl. Considering that my children will be half of my DNA, it’s not out of the question that I could have a daughter that bears some resemblance to myself. (I’m no scientist, but this seems to be the way it works)

What if one day I’m looking into my daughter’s face and looking at the same big nose I used to criticize? Or holding hands with the same crooked fingers? Or brushing the same red hair that I have thought so many times about changing? What if she inherits my oh-so-tragic skin?

Am I going to sit across from her and speak to her the same way I speak to myself?

“Your nose takes up half your face. How does anyone make eye contact with you? What’s up with your gnarly fingers? No one wants to look at your face when you’re broken out like that. It’s all they’re gonna see. Your hair is so messy and such a dumb color. Too red to be brown and too brown to be fully red. Why don’t you dye it to something that would make you look better? Don't even think about leaving the house without makeup.”

Absolutely not… the thought of saying that to anyone else is sickening. But then why is it okay to say to myself? The blatantly obvious answer is that it’s not. But the boundaries that exist in your mind and your thoughts when it comes to someone else often don't apply when you look inward.

Once again, what if one day I’m looking into my daughter’s face and looking at the same big nose I used to criticize? Or holding hands with the same crooked fingers? Or brushing the same red hair that I have thought so many times about changing? What if she inherits the thorn in my side- my skin?

What if I try to tell her she’s beautiful just the way she is? But right afterwards, look into the mirror and verbalize how much I hate my nose and my skin and my hair, just like I do now. What do you think she’ll believe? What I say or what I do?

I can’t tell her that her skin doesn’t define her if I am constantly covering mine up. I can’t tell her that her crooked fingers are quirky and endearing if I am always complaining about my own. I can’t tell her she’s beautiful the way she is while always saying the nose we genetically share is far too big. I can’t tell her she’s lucky to have her rare hair color if I dyed mine to change it. I can't show someone how to love herself if I don't learn to do so first.

Just because the situation that spoke to my heart had to do with the daughter I hope to have one day doesn’t mean that’s the only situation this is applicable to. Hostility towards yourself will unknowingly rub off onto others and the way they speak to themselves. Negativity is just as contagious as anything else, and if you go through your life nitpicking yourself and never giving yourself a break, eventually the people in your life will begin to wonder about themselves; “Is my nose too big? Do people notice my acne?” etc. If you’re like me, you tend to be a thousand times harder on yourself than those around you, but it’s impossible to communicate that double standard to others when the message you’re sending says that perfect is the only acceptable way to be. You can’t say “I need to lose ten pounds, I look so fat,” and then tell your friend, who’s the same size, “but you look great.” What message does that send? Is she going to believe what you say or how you act?

While self-criticism, by name, has to do with oneself and their own body, it is not an isolated issue. It is so easily spread to those around you and perpetuates the world’s mentality that anything real is unacceptable. It is easier than ever to get lip fillers and spray tans and hair extensions and Botox and change everything you dislike about yourself. To be clear, this is not to say any of those things are bad or should be looked down upon, I believe in being the best version of yourself and choosing to do what makes you feel beautiful. ( My tan isn't real and my actual nails haven't seen the light of day since 2015, I get it. ) However, I also firmly believe that self-love should meet you where you are. It should bridge the gap between perfection and reality and meet you right at your morning-breath, swollen-faced, no-makeup self. It should meet you at your insecurities and follow through your confidence. It should push you to be the best you FOR you, but also remind you that coming as you are is always enough. Today, right where you sit, just how you exist in this moment, is enough.You and every insecurity you carry with you every day is worthy of the same love you show yourself in your best moments, and that you give so freely to the rest of the world.

So yes, I will continue to make my weekly gym goals and work towards being my healthiest self, I will still do my vigorous skin care routine and buy facemasks that make me look like an alien in pursuit of looking and feeling my best. But I will not expect perfection, and I will speak to myself kindly because that is what we all deserve. I will not make self love conditional, something I only deserve as the skinniest, healthiest, most clear-skinned and put together version of myself. I will love my bare-faced, Shaun White looking self as much as I love the glammed up version of myself with her act together. I will not add any more harshness or criticism to this world that is already overflowing with it. I will remind myself everyday until self-love isn't a goal, it's a reflex.

PS... if you read this far, here is why the Shaun White reference exists. Me, Cerca 2011.

Thank you for listening to me as I learn. XOXO