Freckles...

You are beautiful... Your skin is flawless...

These are things I try to say to myself when I look at me in the mirror. This is what I say to convince myself that everything is okay and it's not worrying me that there is a new spot on my face that most certainly wasn't there this time last week.

I have never thought of myself as beautiful. Never. Even now, when people say it to me, on whatever rare occasion that may be, it's not a word I would ever use to describe myself. It's hard to change years of habitual thinking. Attractive, maybe. I can see attractive... I pride myself on keeping my body toned and fit, loved my life in the dance studio, so even sexy is a definite possibility. But my skin tortured me enough over the years to stop me from ever using beautiful. 

And yet, when I look in the mirror, I repeat these affirmations to convince myself that that spot has always been there. It's not new, it's not adding to the multitude of tiny spots that I can identify on various parts of my body. Inside though, I am freaking out. Yes, it's only small now, but the point is that it wasn't there a few days ago. And I swear that the spot I noticed two weeks ago is now twice the size it was before.

What does this mean? Does this mean that my Vitiligo is better? Or is it worse? I'm so confused by my condition sometimes because I don't have distinguishable patches like other sufferers, so does this mean that I have an extreme case of bad Vitiligo or a good case of one skin tone, even if it isn't mine? Confused, confused, confused...

I went to a poetry reading the other day with some friends. At the end of the first session, a girl sang a popular song by India Arie called Video. I know the song well enough to sing along, but it was only when I started singing along to the second verse that the lyrics hit me like a two-ton truck:

When I look in the mirror and the only one there is me

Every freckle on my face is where it's supposed to be

But... but... every freckle on my face is not where it's supposed to be though! This is what a voice in my head started screaming and since then, I can't stop thinking about those lyrics. My freckles are changing every day. My skin won't behave itself, so I sometimes feel like I am losing me, or the me I have learned to identify with.

Skin. It's the first point of contact someone has with us. It's the first thing people see, it's how people identify with one another. In one way, our skin defines us. Sad, but true. I refused to let my skin define me as a person growing up, so I became talkative, outgoing, strong-minded and opinionated so that people would judge me outside of my skin and look past the patches to my personality. And then I became one colour and I adapted and learned to have an identity that included my new skin. And now, it feels like after years, I have finally adjusted with this skin that isn't mine in the first place - yet it is - and it's playing tricks on me again.

I keep thinking: Maybe I should stress myself out so that the pigment spots disappear or don't grow so rapidly.

How ridiculous is that? Stressing yourself out to keep the skin you've grown used to. It's ludicrous, but this is how my mind works with regards to my skin. Then I'm thinking maybe I'm getting pigment spots because I'm NOT stressed. Maybe, for once in my life, I'm at peace, I'm even possibly... happy? 

But then if happiness means no stress... and no stress means more pigment... and more pigment patches means I stress out about it... and stressing about it reverses the pigment patches (in my head)... but then I'm stressed out, so I can't feel at peace or happy...

It's a vicious cycle going on in my head right now.

I just wanted you to know that I still worry about these things too. My skin is 99% one colour and my life isn't any more perfect or my mind any calmer than when I was a overcompensating teen with patches. The spots on my face remind me that I still have Vitiligo, I'm not out of the woods yet. Not knowing when or where the next spot will show up is beginning to threaten the identity that I finally managed to accept.

I am scared too. But India Arie goes on to say:

But I learned to love myself unconditionally

Because I am a queen


Yes, indeed.