Traveling Through Acne

The journey where mini foreign aliens drastically take over one of the most important parts of my body deeply burdens my attitude, energy, and confidence. Since 2020, I've been grappling with outbreaks and acne. My journey traveling through acne remains a mystery because I still don’t understand why I break out.

My skin journey is one of confusion, sadness, and discomfort. Before 2020, my skin journey was typically soft and clear, with occasional period pimples. Growing up in a household that emphasized nightly face washing, I had a solid 3-4 step skin routine, using quality products at a young age.

Fast forward to 2020—COVID, the loss of a loved one, and a rising nicotine addiction. My skin took a toll like I had never seen before. Pain, tears, and frustration about my skin became a new norm.

By August 2021, my face was covered with these foreign aliens. Appointments in and out of the dermatologist, blood tests, prescription meds, and endless new skin routines—nothing worked. I was trusting this doctor who, appointment after appointment, kept perscribing things with a complete disregard to my emotional and mental well being. In America, a lot of doctors aren't who we think they are. When it comes to healing, a disregard to the inner world and overall well being of an individual will only be a temporary fix. Not being in control of my skin and placing more trust on someone else to fix it felt like I was giving up a part of myself—giving up a part of my power.

When it comes to the pharmaceutical industry, I do not align with it. I lean more towards a preference for holistic healing and muscle testing. Despite my commitment to a healthy lifestyle—eating whole foods, exercising regularly—my blood tests revealed cortisol levels quadruple above average. My body was screaming for help, actively rolling through fight or flight, and perhaps distraught by recent trauma from losing my boyfriend to suicide.

I felt hopeless and frustrated. I felt like I was misunderstanding something within my body. The idea of taking a poweful pill like Acutane terrified me. I had been raised to avoid such strong medications. I knew there had to be another route.

During the mask era from 2020-2022, I could hide what I couldn't face, but the mere thought of needing to put cover up on just to leave the house shattered my confidence. As meditation became a big part of my routine, I would ask what the issue is and kept hearing one word: “nicotine.”

During Halloween 2021, my friends and I had an exhilarating weekend planned in the Florida Keys; a ritual for University of Miami students. All my outfits were planned and laid out, hotels booked, and I was ready to get spooky! Prepared to leave on Friday morning, Thursday afternoon I became violently ill. Locked in my bedroom and off my phone because of FOMO, I had deep conversations with myself. I knew nicotine was harming my skin and health, and finally let myself surrender into the truth: quit nicotine. Even the thought of ripping a nicotine device that unwell made me violently nauseous. I knew this was my turning point.

That halloween weekend I went cold turkey on nicotine and I've never looked back. Along with quitting nicotine, I started a new skin routine from Clinique & La Roche-Posay recommended by my cousin who dealt with hormonal acne. On top of that, I knew many friends on a medicine called spironolactone which targets hormonal acne. Despite my dislike towards pharmaceutical drugs, spironolactone was not as terrifying as Accutane with less side effects, and I saw it do wonders for my friends’ skin. I began taking spironolactone, which cleared my skin within two weeks, despite some scarring.

For the first time in a while, my skin was glowing. From October 2021 to April 2022, I felt a temporary sense of relief. During this time, I also happened to be studying abroad in Florence, Italy for Spring Term 2022. But, deep down, I didn’t feel amazing. I was relying on an external source for healing, and when I stopped taking spironolactone, the outbreaks returned. I went back on it, seeking consistency.

My time abroad was transformative and a huge intention I had was to break free from temporary fixes. So, in the summer of 2022, I stopped spironolactone for good. I moved straight from Italy to Amsterdam, adopted a pescatarian diet, introduced minerals and supplements into my diet, practiced yoga more intensely, and biked my little heart out all over that city.

My skin flourished that summer— it was the best it had been since the chaos began in 2020.

Moving home from Europe, settling into my senior year for Fall Term 2022, my skin was fine but never as good as it was in Amsterdam (my skin is typically worse when in America for obvious reasons). My blood tests continued to reveal elevated cortisol levels. While my skin was manageable, it still lingered in the back of my mind as a concern.

In May 2023 post college graduation, I prepared to backpack through South America for over a year. Through my time backpacking, my skin started to act out again. With a concern about my skin routine and running out while traveling, I became less diligent about washing my face and met many people with beautiful skin who didn't follow any skincare routine…What was I doing wrong?

After finishing up that year of backpacking (and four years later post chaos), I still struggle with high cortisol levels and regular breakouts. My holistic doctor recently recommended supplements from new blood results that resonate with my body, but I still feel hopeless. No part of me wants to spend money testing out different products because I believe our bodies are strong enough to cleanse itself. Is this just a phase or is there something deeper going on? Will I just wake up one day and it’ll be gone? I seek answers from the universe daily.

I elude confidence but this ongoing struggle with acne tears me down every time I look in the mirror. It makes me forget all the other amazing parts of who I am. My skin works tirelessly to protect me yet our relationship continues to feels stained.

Now, when I meditate on it, I merely hear a simple voice: “It’s the life.”

A big part of me believes I am going to be the only one who heals my entire body.

Peace and Love,

Chelsey Grace