A Celebration of Acne

Towards the end of my time in middle school, acne clutched its treacherous hands onto my skin. I knew it would inevitably arrive, but I feared it, nonetheless. I was aware of how common acne was for teenagers, especially as they develop through the hormonal stages of puberty. In fact, around 80% of teenagers are affected by acne and it tends to persist from the age of 12 to 24. But even despite how normal skin issues are in middle and high school, acne remains such a tabooed and isolating thing.

My chin was the hot spot. Fortunately, it was nothing overly severe, but it was enough to heavily damage my self-esteem and make me seek out treatment. I saw two different dermatologists, swallowed numerous antibiotics, experimented with a variety of topical ointments, swiped my cheeks with anti-oil cotton pads, played around with an elimination diet, and dropped $75 on a trendy face mask that a Sephora employee politely convinced me to purchase. Interestingly enough, most of these products actually provided some relief. But nothing was consistent. I’d have a couple weeks of somewhat clear skin only to wake up with a fresh set of whiteheads after a month.

In my sophomore year of high school, my dermatologist sympathized with my frustration and prescribed the last-resort treatment, Accutane. Accutane was supposedly the “miracle cure” for acne. Every blog article I scrolled through and every YouTube video I watched told me that Accutane had completely cleared people’s faces and provided the skin they dreamt of. After a period of the worst acne of my life (Accutane makes everything worse before it’s better), monthly blood drawings, lower back pain, and unexpected mood swings, I finally felt confident in my skin. I took photos as often as I could to keep track of my progress and being able to watch my zits disappear over time was empowering.

All this to say, I am very pro-acne. I truly do not understand how something so prevalent became so stigmatized. As someone who has spent way too long photoshopping pimples and redness out of pictures, I would never want someone to feel like they need to alter the condition of their natural skin in order to feel beautiful or socially acceptable. Anytime I see a character in a film or a high-profile celebrity showcase their acne, I feel seen. It is inspiring to know that people can find success despite the challenges presented by their skin.

Even though my skin has significantly improved from my early high school days, I still have trouble with my problematic chin. Recently, I seem to be waking up with a new collection of white heads every morning (even though I cut out dairy – what the heck!!!). However, I refuse to let the presence of a pimple dictate my self-confidence and the way I see myself. It’s too mentally draining to obsess over small bumps that, more often than not, I’m the only one who can see.

I worry about how the countless skin-smoothing, limp-plumping Instagram and Snapchat filters are damaging the self-esteem of today’s youth. I am in full support of treating one’s acne, but on the other hand, I am also in full support of leaving it uncovered. We, as a society of standards, place so much pressure on young people to appear and behave a certain way – especially through their social media personas. These pressures only lead to further stress and feelings of isolation, aka: the perfect recipe for fresh breakouts. To offer one piece of advice to someone struggling with their acne: the condition of your skin does not (and will never) define you. In most cases, problematic skin has absolutely nothing to do with hygiene or personal habits. It is one of the many natural functions within our body and we need to let it be exactly that. I challenge you to proudly welcome all of the elements within your body – even the ones you’re told are “bad”.

Strike Out,

Writer: Ian Kennedy

Editor: Joey Flanagan

Graphics: Valerie Esquivel

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