1. The end of summer
Despite Game of Thrones-style warnings that ‘winter is coming’, anyone with sensitive skin knows it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference. You can arm yourself with enough balm to clog up the Parisian sewers but once that dry skin of yours decides to crack then there’s nothing you can do. Brace yourselves…
2. You leave a part of you wherever you go
If you have Eczema/dry skin you will always be followed by that little magical dust cloud of skin. Peeling off your skinny jeans, you’ll wonder how you’ve any skin left judging by the atomic mass billowing in the air. Remember when someone brought in that snakeskin to show off at school? You could TOTALLY relate. Gross but you hear me right?
3. The inevitable questions
‘’What have you done to your ______?!’’ *insert ‘face’ ‘hands’ ‘leg’ or whatever has decided to flare up this time*
It’s like when someone tells your six-foot-three friend ‘’ooh you’re tall’’. No shit. I am sure they already knew this. As I am more than aware that my hands could provide Zombie close ups in the Walking Dead but you don’t need to tell me because, guess what? I’ve already seen them. I don’t understand why people I barely know think its ok to mention anything at all. Unlike the communal mugs at work, not everything is for sharing.
I find it equally frustrating when people try to ‘fix’ you. It’s amazing that doctors can train for years but your colleagues can become dermatologists in seconds. I’ve tried every trick and every product, so don’t even bother.
4. You’re so cynical but you just can’t stop spending
It’s always a game of skincare-roulette when it comes to trying new products. You’ve just spent half a month’s salary on the latest moisturiser for sensitive skin; slather it on only to find the next day your epidermis looks more like a painting by Pollock than a Vogue cover.
Yep, we’ve all been there. Taken in by the promises schmoises of the latest wonder cream that will turn us all into Victoria Secret models. Over the years I think I’ve become wise to these ‘success stories’. The day something really changes my skin forever will be the day I ride away on my pet unicorn.
However, anything that DOES make your skin feel anything slightly smoother than sandpaper requires you to remortage your house or rob a bank.
5. Thinking that diet will save you
You’ve been eating that many Blueberries you’re starting to resemble Violet Beauregarde (if you have to Google her then shame on you!) Then weeks later you come across a blog post warning that if you want the skin of an angel you need to steer clear of all berries! When my skin is bad one of the first things I blame is my diet, but how the hell do you know what you’re actually SUPPOSED to be eating?! For every ‘safe’ food that will help sort out your skin there’s a conflicting opinion telling you the opposite. I still have no idea whether I’m supposed to bathe in a vat of tomatoes or avoid them like an 80’s mullet. The only real way of testing foods is an elimination diet, and to be honest who has the patience for that
6. Tanning is a no-go
Ahhh, the Sun. That glorious Vitamin D provider. If you’re paler than a pint of milk AND your skin is more sensitive than a Westlife album then it’s pretty much game over. The sun is either friend or foe. It’ll help heal your skin, or you’ll get that prickly rash and the only option is to slather on that much sun lotion the chance of getting any shade of brown is slim to sod all.
Equally trying to fake tan is COMPLETELY out of the question- you’ll either blow up from an allergic reaction or end up looking like you suffer from ringworm when it sticks to all those sneaky dry/sensitive patches. Ugh. The tanning struggle is VERY real.
7. You just can’t trust yourself, your clothes, or your washing powder
Ever woken up with blood under your finger nails? Even if you’re the healthiest person in the world, use the best skincare products, and only wear clothes crafted using cotton hand-picked from clouds, what your body decides to do in your sleep is the one thing you can’t control. That itch will won’t scratch itself…
I’ve gone to sleep thinking my skin isn’t so bad only to wake up looking like I’ve been in bed with Wolverine.
When it comes to buying clothes and washing powder- who the hell do you trust?! And you can forget buying that woollen jumper, you might as well wear a cape of fire. You can also forget that sweet smelling fabric conditioner. You’ll look more ‘elephant in poison ivy’ than ‘Amazon rainforest’. Anything that smells remotely pleasant must be avoided at whatever cost. This includes perfume, body butter, and those bath bombs I shudder at the mere thought of using.
Only last week I was scorched by the liquid venom of a perfume promoter in Boots, spraying carelessly in my direction blissfully unaware of the hell I’d be in later.
All you can do is ask yourself- will it make me itch, will it burn me from the inside out, and is it worth it? Probably not…
8. From the lowest self-esteem to extreme vanity
Yes it might be a ‘first-world problem’, and there are far greater issues than a bad skin day! But when it’s more like a bad skin year you REALLY start to hate yourself. Sometimes, when it’s only acceptable to walk out the house with a hat covering my head, I think I’d actually rather be bald than have skin that rejects everything it comes into contact with. At least I could wear a wig!
On the other hand it’s PERFECTLY acceptable to flounce around like Beyonce Barbie leaving the salon on those few, and far between, occasions where your skin and body decide to work in perfect harmony and actually look like they should. Take a bazillion selfies, put on those hot pants and pour yourself a glass of champagne. Just be ready for the next morning when your outermost organ will decide it actually hates alcohol now too…
Owning a shell that is of the sensitive persuasion means the things you want to take part in- trips to the beach, running through fields (because, let’s face it- we all wanna do that), cuddling your best friends new dog/cat/rabbit- all come with serious risks and more often than not running your red raw hands through the hair of a Guinea Pig is simply not worth the
hours of pain and itchy misery.
There are few benefits of having an outer layer of hell but it’s vital to milk every single one! I use my pathetic dermis as an excuse for all sorts of things. It brings an end to all those crappy shower gel sets at Christmas, which leaves room to suggest something you actually want. I can also avoid cosmetic counter slaves, washing up, cleaning, weird food, bad cups of tea, and it allows me to be a complete bedding snob (350 thread count minimum) and also adorn myself in only the best skincare I can get my itchy little mits on.
For anyone with sensitive skin- it’s tough out there. You have my deepest sympathies.