One Dose of Self-Confidence, Please
Finally, women are becoming more and more outspoken about feeling comfortable in their own skin, and self-love is practiced and preached on social media, in magazines and even TV. From online videos of little girls chanting self-affirmations in the mirror, to a surge in plus-sized models breaking through onto the catwalk, it has never been more fashionable to love your body. Though we still have far to go, (thanks for the plus sized mannequins Nike, but we need a little more), the body confidence movement is gaining fast traction and shows no sign of slowing down.
At a time where women are coming forward in droves to swat down body-shamers and yell “I love my stretch marks/freckles/psoriasis/back rolls,” which is excellent, hell yes, it can sometimes leave others feeling left behind. What if you CAN’T accept the skin you’re in? Why does it mean you are less of a strong woman if you need help from cosmetics, medicine or surgery to feel beautiful? I’m not telling you boob jobs are the way forward, but hear me out for a second.
I have had severe acne since I was thirteen, first across my shoulders and slowly creeping up to my face. It reached its worst during my second year of university; it made me feel so low and so ugly that once I took my make up off, which definitely didn’t help, I refused to leave my room in case even my flatmates saw me. If I wanted anything to drink at night, I would ask my best-friend to go and get it. At parties, I would pick the room with the lowest lighting, the least people, and stay there. When I spoke to others, I would notice their eyes wandering over my face, and sometimes with a particularly bad flare up on my cheek – it physically hurt to smile. It affected everything, most notably my mood and the way I looked at myself; and it was at my lowest moment I was told to “just accept it and love the skin you’re in.” Fuck you, no. This isn’t okay.
After a lot of research that quite frankly scared me to my core, I decided to try Roaccutane – a notorious drug which is essentially a high dosage of concentrated vitamin A. Its scarier side effects included depression, suicidal tendencies, liver and kidney damage, and some evidence of eye failure for certain individuals. To go on the drug, you need to prove to a dermatologist that you have tried other methods in the past, such as topical creams, antibiotics, a change in diet (check, check, check), commit to monthly blood and urine tests, and avoid all alcohol, cigarettes, sun exposure – as your skin becomes easily susceptible to burning and the risk of melanoma. You also have to be happy with taking eight tablets a day: four in the morning and four at night. I was absolutely desperate, and, after a year on the waiting list, I gobbled down the first tablets like TicTacs.
More than eight months on from my six-month course of Roaccutane, I have never felt more confident. I can smile pain free, my scars are healing thanks to a rigorous skin-care routine, and when people speak to me, they actually look me in the eyes and not on the bumps surrounding them. Not to be dramatic, but for the first time since I turned thirteen, I can actually look in the mirror and feel okay with what I see. I go out without make-up now! A late-night trip to Sainsburys doesn’t terrify me or require foundation or concealer! Yes! The side effects of Roaccutane are not to be ignored, and my mood was monitored closely by friends and family who knew I was taking the drug. I’m lucky enough that I didn’t experience any of the symptoms that I was warned about, and I can honestly say that those four tablets, morning and night, really did change my life. Now, I can happily join in with the other women, and chant ‘I love the skin I’m in!’ – but I won’t pretend I could feel like this without that course of Roaccutane. Body confidence is something that everyone should feel, regardless of gender, age, or size, and if you have it already, you’re incredible! Carry on! If you need a little help to get there, like I did, then that’s okay too – and you shouldn’t feel any less bad-ass for it.