When I was a little kid, I thought I was ugly because I had psoriasis.
Psoriasis is actually an autoimmune disorder that causes red, scaly patches on your skin. The patches can affect literally any part of your body and can range from mild to severe. Typically people with psoriasis experience periods of subsiding and flaring. I was diagnosed when I was in fourth grade (9 years old) and battled it until I was twenty-five when my first pregnancy made it miraculously disappear.
Nowadays, there are better, internal medications to treat psoriasis. Back then, though, these did not exist. The only relief I got came from daily application of creams, ointments, stinky shampoos, and specialized light treatments.
I hated it. I hated the creams and ointments. I hated the doctor's appointments. I hated the questions and the comments. I hated covering up and hiding. I hated pulling up my shirt, showing my back to the man I was head over heels in love with, and praying he wouldn't be disgusted. I hated choosing prom dresses and a wedding gown based more on what parts of my body they covered than what I really liked. I hated looking in the mirror.
Although my psoriasis has been gone for ten years now, I still hate it. I hate the word. I hate the memories of it. I hate talking about it. I hate the commercials on TV that paint this rosy picture of a simple cure that wasn't available when I needed it. I hate feeling guilty for hating psoriasis because it could have been cancer or something much worse and life threatening. I hate looking at the prom photos and wedding pictures because I know what was underneath. I hate that writing this makes me cry.
I hate that, when I read the prompt "When I was a little kid I thought. . . . ," this was the first topic that came to mind.
I hate that, when I read the prompt "When I was a little kid I thought. . . . ," this was the first topic that came to mind.
I hate that I hate it so much because that means it wins.
Most of all, I hate that I still do not cannot like what I see when I look in the mirror. I spent so many years - formative years - seeing something negative glaring back at me in my reflection. Seeing the negative became a habit. The red skin patches are gone, but now I see the extra pounds or the dark circles under my eyes. I see a too big nose or mousy hair color. I see someone who doesn't do enough or well enough.
Then, I see a hypocrite.
You see, I have three daughters - beautiful daughters. They aren't even teenagers yet, but I have heard all of them comment that they are fat. I have heard them complain about their freckles, their height, their hair. When I hear those comments, it breaks my heart and I wonder, "Did they learn that from me?" I tell them they are beautiful inside and out. I tell them they are just the way God intended for them to be. "Be confident," I tell them.
Then, I look in the mirror at myself again. Hypocrite.
I see their beauty, but I don't see mine. When I was a little kid I thought I was ugly and I still do. I am trying really, really hard, though, to be a good example; to make sure my girls finish this sentence differently when they are thirty five.
Psoriasis be damned. I WILL NOT let it, through me, teach my daughters to see the negative. I will not let it take from them what it took from me. I overcame it physically and, someday, I will overcome it mentally and emotionally as well.
To learn more about psoriasis, visit the National Psoriasis Foundation at www.psoriasis.org.
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This post was written as part of Finish The Sentence Friday and the prompt was "One Halloween I..." FTSF is hosted by some wonderful blogging ladies. Please give them a visit and check out all the other blogs that participate as well!
Janine at Janine’s Confessions of a Mommyaholic
