I went to the dermatologist today and did some soul searching in the waiting room. As I was filling out my patient information sheet I had to list my age, problem, and how long I've been suffering from said affliction. My age: 28. My problem: acne. Years suffering from problem: 12! The first time I went to the dermatologist I was 16 years old. This would be a normal season of life to visit the skin doctor: braces, frizzy hair, acne, all simple rites of passage for the average adolescent. The braces were removed, the frizzy hair was remedied thanks to the glorious advent of the Chi flat iron, but the acne has remained. Through high school graduation, college graduation, even marriage, it has been a loyal companion accompanying me through all of life's momentous events.
Maybe it's been a gift as it helps me continue to relate with the woes of the high schoolers I work with. But ill be turning 30 soon and I'd love to mark that occasion acne free. So let's pray this is the end of an era for me. Now that I've given my poor skin testimony worthy of a proactiv commercial, I'll end my rant.
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