It’s how I’ve looked at the world for over two years now.

It started slow, a couple of months before Lucy was born. Just an irritating red spot on my cheek. No fun, but not a huge deal, and I thought it would probably resolve itself after pregnancy.

Spoiler alert! It did not.

You see it, right? Right there on my cheek, in one of my favorite pictures with Lucy. Sigh.

And despite several different treatments and lifestyle and diet changes, it got much, much worse.

SO. MUCH. WORSE.

This was late October. Less than a month ago.

So now here I am, sitting in my writing chair, at nearly 40 years old, discovering skin care and (GASP) Accutane for basically the first time in my life.

Let me back up.

I’ve always had pretty clear skin. It’s been quite a blessing, I know, that I haven’t had major issues with acne or dark circles or unevenness or scarring or anything. I feel lucky. Or, at least, I did. I’ve never had to think very hard about skin care. Some cleanser, a good moisturizer, maybe a toner and a fun face mask every so often. And makeup? Eh, just some powder and blush and mascara got me through for a long, long time.

My entire world has changed.

It’s exhausting, being so uncomfortable in your own skin. The rosacea looks terrible, sure, but it feels worse. It stings and itches and burns, and often at night, it’s so bad that I can’t find a comfortable spot to rest my cheek on my pillow.  Add to that, I’m afraid that it will never go away. I’m genuinely afraid that in every single picture, for all of Lucy’s childhood, my face will be either bright red and covered in inflamed spots, or that it will be so caked with makeup that I can’t really recognize myself.

Which brings me to now, back to my writing chair, watching Lucy nap beside me without a care in the world.

After every treatment and lifestyle change failed, my dermatologist suggested Accutane. I started it on October 20^th. It’s a scary medicine, with lots of potential side effects, a few of which – the dryness, oh my gosh the dryness – I’m feeling pretty acutely.

But y’all, it’s working.

It’s the only thing in nearly two years that’s actually worked.

I’m cautiously optimistic, and hoping I can finish the six-month course of treatment. I’m hoping that it’s a long-term cure, though I know that’s not always the case. And I’m finally starting to feel like my old self again. I can wear makeup and it looks nice and not like housepaint! I can go out without makeup and not worry about scaring small children and nervous pets!

And I know what people say: No one pays that much attention.

But I pay attention. I don’t consider myself a vain person. But two years of not liking what you see in the mirror, that takes a toll. And I’m so ready for something, something to work.

So, fingers crossed. And if anyone is going through something similar and is interested in updates, I’m happy to post them! I might do a monthly check-in here. I don’t know. But I do know that for the first time since before Lucy came, my face finally feels like mine again.

And I’m so thankful (because let’s be seasonally appropriate, right?) for that.