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a blog by Laura O'Rourke

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Ode To A Zit

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Dear Persistent Pimple,

We’ve been through a lot together, you and I. Don’t misunderstand me. We aren’t friends. In fact, I downright despise you, but we have shared some momentous occasions.

When we first met years ago, you were  non-remarkable, but no less annoying. You came, with all your little friends, to cover my growing body and mortify me in front of my friends. Freak. Pizza-face. Ugly. I looked like every other teenager, yet felt embarrassed and self-conscious. You did that to me. Still, I paid you no mind, assuming you’d disappear with the rest of them in a few years, once I passed puberty and entered adulthood.

But you haven’t gone anywhere.

Sure, you’ve disappeared at times. You sneak away without the fanfare that you came in with. You would always leave me just long enough for me to forget that I have to deal with pimples at all anymore. For a few blissful weeks I even start to question if I am in some twilight skin zone between acne and wrinkles.

(Upon closer inspection I realize I am mistaken and am actually on the cusp between two phases of life where both pimples and wrinkles have taken up residency on my face.)

But then something big happens. Something exciting happens. I get pregnant or I have a baby or I get a job interview or I show up on television or I go back to work.

And you pop up. Always. In the same spot.

I don’t know why you think my life is so fabulous or why you only stick around for the big life events, but somehow we’ve become very well acquainted now.

I know you’re coming before anyone else does. You painfully sneak up on me, hiding under the skin for a day before announcing yourself publicly. That first day is your punishment for me not formally inviting you to my big event, I suppose.

You know I don’t want you, right? You know I don’t need you holding my hand through each of my big life experiences? I’ve got this, you know. Despite how much we’ve done together, I’m okay going alone. The right side of my chin is perfectly fine when you’re not around. In fact, I would argue that it is better.

Still, through some combination of hormones and stress, you show up. And you invite my hand to the party. You two are annoyingly inseparable. That nervous habit brought on by the same stress that invited you makes my fingers pick. And poke and prod and pinch. I always hope my fingers are teaching you a lesson – beating you up just enough to emphasize that we never want to see you around here again. Instead you get angry and stubborn, out-staying your welcome and drawing attention to yourself.

We have shared a lot of big, important, stressful events. So it was no surprise to me when you came around last week for my first day back to work. You even said goodbye to the boys as we sent them off to daycare. But it has been a week already. You have had your fun. May I please kindly ask you to leave? I’m enjoying this new-found opportunity to dress nicely and wash my hair and put up makeup. But you are totally ruining it.

So goodbye. You’ve had your fun.

Please?

Signed,

Trying To Look Presentable Here

Starting Work Zit

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Comments

  3. SO unfair. thank goodness my husband is smart enough to not point them out, because my medication has cloned them all over my face. ugh.

  8. See, my title would have to be “Ode to Zits”, with an “S”. Yeah… and always on the chin. One in the same spot as yours. And then it invites friends! WHEE!

    Adult acne is just wrong, isn’t it? I have invested in a lot of cover up.

  10. bahaha! That picture made me laugh! And oh, I know all too well about the chin zit. I’ve heard or read somewhere that zits especially in the chin area are hormonal. From hormones. Makes sense. I never thought I’d still have these things as an adult. but I do. I actually just bought some proactiv !!! Now that Oscar is nursing less and you know what is back, got a whole new crop of the pimples. so. Trying to nip them in the bud, so to speak. Funny stuff!

  13. I knew I was doomed, when I was like 11 or 12 and my mom was 40, and still had pimples. Yup I am 37 and still get as many as in high school. The only upside, I didn’t have major breakouts in high school. Just a few at a time.
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