Dear Skin,
I’m writing to apologise. I know you were enjoying the extra care I’d been giving you the last few weeks, and it was really nice to see you being clear and gummy again. You were glowing!
Then I decided to go on a cleanse. We’d been getting some reports from digestion that it would be necessary to do so soon. Now you’ve got an itchy rash happening and pimples are coming up from so deep they possibly originated in our soul. Your job is hard enough without rogue toxins trying to escape through you and me piling on cloggy make up to disguise them.
You’re much more important than I give you credit for. Sure, I praise you when you look good on my face, but I still paint all over you to “improve” what you’re trying so hard to create. You do so much more than just look good though, you sweat, heal when I hurt myself, make Goosebumps when it’s cold, hold my insides, uh, inside. And just when I start making some effort to repay you for all the hard work you do I decide to pump a crap-load of crap out through you to “detoxify” my body.
I hope it’s worth it, not just for my sake, but also for yours, because not having all of that toxic waste around should make it a lot easier for you to do your job and look fabulous while you’re doing it. I also promise I’ll continue to give you the products and support that you need throughout this long process, and will try not to wear too much make up where possible. I would like to remind you about how I’ve stuck with my “no sunburn in 2011” resolution, and assure you that my new pledges will be just as successful as this one has been.
I speak for all of us here at Ell-Leigh when I say we want you to know that you aren’t going through this detox alone and that we’re here if you need someone to talk to. As you know a body is full of complex systems that have to support each other to function, and although it may feel lonely, out there, away from the digestion and cardiovascular organs, we want you to know that we appreciate your work and recognise that the last week has been hard for you.
Sincerely,
Management
(Ell-Leigh’s Brain)
I’m writing to apologise. I know you were enjoying the extra care I’d been giving you the last few weeks, and it was really nice to see you being clear and gummy again. You were glowing!
Then I decided to go on a cleanse. We’d been getting some reports from digestion that it would be necessary to do so soon. Now you’ve got an itchy rash happening and pimples are coming up from so deep they possibly originated in our soul. Your job is hard enough without rogue toxins trying to escape through you and me piling on cloggy make up to disguise them.
You’re much more important than I give you credit for. Sure, I praise you when you look good on my face, but I still paint all over you to “improve” what you’re trying so hard to create. You do so much more than just look good though, you sweat, heal when I hurt myself, make Goosebumps when it’s cold, hold my insides, uh, inside. And just when I start making some effort to repay you for all the hard work you do I decide to pump a crap-load of crap out through you to “detoxify” my body.
I hope it’s worth it, not just for my sake, but also for yours, because not having all of that toxic waste around should make it a lot easier for you to do your job and look fabulous while you’re doing it. I also promise I’ll continue to give you the products and support that you need throughout this long process, and will try not to wear too much make up where possible. I would like to remind you about how I’ve stuck with my “no sunburn in 2011” resolution, and assure you that my new pledges will be just as successful as this one has been.
I speak for all of us here at Ell-Leigh when I say we want you to know that you aren’t going through this detox alone and that we’re here if you need someone to talk to. As you know a body is full of complex systems that have to support each other to function, and although it may feel lonely, out there, away from the digestion and cardiovascular organs, we want you to know that we appreciate your work and recognise that the last week has been hard for you.
Sincerely,
Management
(Ell-Leigh’s Brain)
Dear Skin,
Guess what? Today, at a skin care shop, the consultant called you normal. Did you hear it? “Let’s see, your skin type looks pretty normal…” she said. Well, wasn’t I chuffed! I mean; normal! What a first.
We do not have such a kind recent history, you and I, and I’m sorry about that. You were never quite what I wanted you to be, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t treat you quite how you would have liked, either. You see, I always dreamt of having that glowingly clear, porcelain type skin, the kind that people liken to a baby’s bottom. You, well, you were not quite that; I can most certainly assure you that my face cheeks have never been compared to those of an infant’s posterior. I’ve kind of really resented you for that, which in hindsight is not really fair, because how did you know I wanted you to look like bottom? You’re a face. Yes, Skin, I’d say we hit a bit of a rough patch during puberty, and it was more than just a case of simple miscommunication.
Too oily in some places, too dry in others, too sensitive all over, over the past few years I’d label you passable at the best of times, at the worst downright awful. It’s hard to remember a time as a teenager that I wasn’t constantly on the alert for the pimples you grew on my face, both driving me crazy and being generally humiliating. I can, in fact, remember the very first one there ever was. I was only in Grade Six at school (so young!) and I remember a boy asking me what it was. “It’s just a pimple,” I tried an air of nonchalance. The reply? “Wow. Geez.” Yes, geez indeed.
Of course, I wasn’t exactly helping you out with my icecream scoffing, chocolate adoring* ways, was I? I was intelligent enough to understand that my diet, what it contained and what it lacked, was inextricably linked to the condition of you, Skin. With this nutritional knowledge I didn’t really change my ways, though, I just kept hating you and the seeming injustice of it all, eating more chocolate and icecream and sometimes icecream with chocolate, all the while your condition continuing to worsen.
Skin, for a long time, I regarded you almost as an enemy, which is not really so positive with you being my body’s largest organ and all. It wasn’t our best time, and I suggest we put it behind us, Because, you know what? Things are getting better now. I mean, obviously, since someone looked at you today and decided that you looked perfectly normal and all. Puberty’s over, and suddenly, thankfully, I don’t have to worry about you so much anymore, which leaves a surprisingly large void in my time. I’m beginning to realise just how much of my thoughts have been focussed on you, so tied up you were in every aspect of my life. From eating to sleeping to what make up I used and how I could cover the blemishes up, how much I was stressed and whether certain types of exercise made you look worse or better, I could take you into consideration with nearly every decision made.
On the positive, now, not only do I have a lot of free time to do things other than frown at the mirror, but I also have a really good knowledge of nutrition, how my body operates and my specific needs and what to look for in friendly, natural ingredient based skin care products. I’ve finally come to my senses and eased up a bit on the icecream/chocolate scenario, adding more raw veges and large amounts of detoxifying lemon water to my diet instead.
Without having to try and ‘fix’ you, I wouldn’t have become so interested in healthy living, and I’m pretty grateful that you guided me down that path. Also, not growing up with the snazzy looking, bum-like skin I wanted made me think about the other things that made me attractive and acceptable, things a bit more permanent than my looks.
Skin, I haven’t been too nice to you and I’m sorry. You do your best, I know you do, and I promise to keep doing my best to help you out as well. We make a pretty good team, you and I. Tonight, I drink a big cup of pure old water in your honour.
Cheers Skin.
Lauren
*For the doubters out there: during that time I single-handedly proved that for some of us (me, at the very least) chocolate definitely is linked to skin blemishes. I used a system of trial and error, the trial and error both ending up being the eating of copious amounts of chocolate, and the evidence undeniably pointing toward chocolate being an awfully terrible choice for my skin. So...there!
No comments:
Post a Comment