Better Watch Out for the Skin Deep
In New York City, the change of seasons between spring and summer is not like easing yourself into a hot bath; it's a surprise shove into a cold pool. On Tuesday, the temps were in the sweet 70s. Then, BAM: Wednesday hits a muggy mid 80 and the air tastes bad all of a sudden.
Whenever we have the first super warm, humid day of the season, I break out. Seemingly out of nowhere, these deeply embedded pimples burst out of face. I have two huge ones on my forehead, and one nasty oozing one where the side of my nose meets my face. This type is new to me. It's dry and scabby around the edges, but manages to be always wet in the middle. And it makes the side of my face so sore that I'm taking ibuprofen. Did I mention that I'm in my late 30s? This kind of crap shouldn't be happening to me anymore, right?
Anyone who has met me can see the pockmarks that crater the skin covering my cheekbones. They create lumpy shadows on my face in harsh overhead lighting. I had a pretty awful time of it during my high school years -- I've seen people who've had it much worse -- but it sucked just the same.
Puberty hit and I had nickel-sized, cyst-like pimples all over my shoulders (backpacks and backslaps hurt!), as well as the cheekbone areas of my face. I was horribly self-conscious about them and utterly embarrassed. I did everything not to draw attention to myself, and withdrew so much that I rarely let anyone see the real me.
I remember being on this date in my freshman year with this girl that I had this crush on since fifth grade. We're taking the train down to Chinatown for dinner and instead of making witty conversation or letting her know how much I dig her, all I'm thinking about is how there is this massive red zit on the side of my face that is between us. Yo, she called me up for a date, so you'd think it was pretty obvious that she liked me. But I didn't believe that anyone as nice and beautiful and awesome as her could ever like someone like me. So, we had a few more awkward dates (I can't even remember if I ever kissed her hello or goodbye on the cheek -- forget about making out). We saw a horror movie at the old Orpheum on East 86th Street, and there was one of those shock/surprise moments when she grabbed my arm and buried her face in my chest...I could have died right there and then and been happy I was so starved for attention/affection. But did I ever let her know how much I liked her? I bet she spent all our dates wondering.
I'll always remember driving some of my school friends in my dad's car and one of the guys looking over at me and making this declaration to everyone else in the car: "Hey, look guys! [Familyman] even has zits in his ears!" It was the truth and it hurt more than I would ever let him know.
Only years later did I learn from female college friends that when they were in high school zits on guys didn't matter that much and that I would have been popular at their school...
So, the high school years are hell for everybody, with our own nasty personal demons tearing us up inside. Things turned out alright. In college, I finally found a dermatologist who knew what he was doing (the one I had in high school was old-school and completely ineffective) and cleared up my face (though the medication I took was later linked to severe depression). And I ended up marrying my college girlfriend and we have two incredible kids...and I pray every time I see their faces that my kids have inherited my wife's skin.
Whenever we have the first super warm, humid day of the season, I break out. Seemingly out of nowhere, these deeply embedded pimples burst out of face. I have two huge ones on my forehead, and one nasty oozing one where the side of my nose meets my face. This type is new to me. It's dry and scabby around the edges, but manages to be always wet in the middle. And it makes the side of my face so sore that I'm taking ibuprofen. Did I mention that I'm in my late 30s? This kind of crap shouldn't be happening to me anymore, right?
Anyone who has met me can see the pockmarks that crater the skin covering my cheekbones. They create lumpy shadows on my face in harsh overhead lighting. I had a pretty awful time of it during my high school years -- I've seen people who've had it much worse -- but it sucked just the same.
Puberty hit and I had nickel-sized, cyst-like pimples all over my shoulders (backpacks and backslaps hurt!), as well as the cheekbone areas of my face. I was horribly self-conscious about them and utterly embarrassed. I did everything not to draw attention to myself, and withdrew so much that I rarely let anyone see the real me.
I remember being on this date in my freshman year with this girl that I had this crush on since fifth grade. We're taking the train down to Chinatown for dinner and instead of making witty conversation or letting her know how much I dig her, all I'm thinking about is how there is this massive red zit on the side of my face that is between us. Yo, she called me up for a date, so you'd think it was pretty obvious that she liked me. But I didn't believe that anyone as nice and beautiful and awesome as her could ever like someone like me. So, we had a few more awkward dates (I can't even remember if I ever kissed her hello or goodbye on the cheek -- forget about making out). We saw a horror movie at the old Orpheum on East 86th Street, and there was one of those shock/surprise moments when she grabbed my arm and buried her face in my chest...I could have died right there and then and been happy I was so starved for attention/affection. But did I ever let her know how much I liked her? I bet she spent all our dates wondering.
I'll always remember driving some of my school friends in my dad's car and one of the guys looking over at me and making this declaration to everyone else in the car: "Hey, look guys! [Familyman] even has zits in his ears!" It was the truth and it hurt more than I would ever let him know.
Only years later did I learn from female college friends that when they were in high school zits on guys didn't matter that much and that I would have been popular at their school...
So, the high school years are hell for everybody, with our own nasty personal demons tearing us up inside. Things turned out alright. In college, I finally found a dermatologist who knew what he was doing (the one I had in high school was old-school and completely ineffective) and cleared up my face (though the medication I took was later linked to severe depression). And I ended up marrying my college girlfriend and we have two incredible kids...and I pray every time I see their faces that my kids have inherited my wife's skin.
posted by Steve from Moon | 9:42 PM
3 Comments:
It's amazing the weight of the chains that we dragged around with us during our youth. For me it was fat. I never dated in high school, because I couldn't imagine that any boy would find me attractive. And I always kept a low profile so that I wouldn't garner any attention (hard to believe that now). And my experience was fairly benign to other folk's stories.
So I know how you feel. And I still break out too. Bastard zits.
What's wrong with you? Don't you know how sexy pockmarks are? Tommy Lee Jones didn't win an Oscar on acting talent alone. Those pocks are a big part of what makes the man so sexy. Badges of honor, babe.
Can't forget Edward James Olmos...now appearing in the re-vamped Battlestar Galactica...and there are more that I'm forgetting.
Thanks for kind works, Christine and K-dog!
Post a Comment
<< Home