With the advent of summer and the slow demise of my post-pregnancy hormones, I’m deep in the throes of a really lame crisis. The glow of pregnancy has vanished, even the leftover stuff that kept my skin looking great for the first six or eight months while I ate whatever food I wanted to and forgot to wash my face. As the glow dissipated, I remembered that once, my dermatologist told me that I was lucky because my skin let me know whenever I’d eaten too much dairy or sugar or something else that isn’t good for me by violently breaking out. Since I like to eat my weight in ice cream (I am not kidding), I thought she was taunting me.
Anyway, here I am, back fighting the skin wars. My skin is not as good as it was when I was a teenager, when it was oddly almost perfect, but it’s better than when I was in my early ’20s, when it was a complete cystic disaster. I’ve read tons of blog posts and articles, and even some books when I’m feeling old-school, about what makes your skin better, happier, less zit-prone, perfectly moisturized without getting shiny, and so on. I’ve taken pills and vitamins, used creams and facial mists, and seen several dermatologists, from the holistic to the one who tried to prescribe me extra medication to combat the side effects of the first medication he’d prescribed. I’ve tried homemade face washes with ingredients like honey and brown sugar and oatmeal, although I won’t do the ones with avocado because I’d rather make guacamole. And I’ve finally arrived at a routine that works okay for me, but I’m not going to tell you what it is because it’s mine, all mine! HAHAHA.
No, just kidding, here is my big secret: Continue reading