So remember when I was all “OH MY FACE! SO SAD!” in regards to the petichiae that had flared up so badly as a result of all my vomiting?
(For anyone unaware, petichiae are ruptured capillaries just under the surface of the skin, some are raised and bumpy others are flush but bright red…they are most often the result of violent and excessive vomiting.)
Well it hasn’t gotten any better. And they’re not going anywhere.
I know darn well they’re there. And I know full well you can see them too. I know the lady at the grocery store could see them because she asked what was wrong with my face. I know every doctor I see can see them because it’s one of the first things they comment on.
I don’t care.
I have stopped trying to cover them with makeup every time I go out. It was not only getting expensive, it was getting ridiculous. I have well moisturized skin, lovely blue eyes, very well behaved lashes very few blemishes and I found a lip color that makes me happy.
All this red rashy blotchiness? It’s part of who I am now, my red badge of courage if you will.
It doesn’t hurt. It’s not contagious. There’s no long term damage.
Many women have stretch marks on various body parts. Many other people have scars from surgeries or marks from injuries sustained in the past. Some people have gaps in their teeth or different color eyes or gray hair. I have a mottled face, proof I sacrificed something worldly society holds in very high esteem in order to get something I wanted.
No one’s ever said “Your face looks stupid, I don’t want to be your friend.”
I mean, people have said mean stuff to me, but generally when people are saying mean things to you? It’s because they’re stupid.
Or something like that.
Repeat after me…
“Love me, love my __________”