Turning White

I'm not vain. I mean I obsess about my hair and it needs to look perfect everyday, but that's it. I don't even own a full length mirror to stop myself from obsessing about my skin. See, I was diagnosed with eczema at the age of seven in a horrific event. My mom was forced to cut all of my hair off. I was already a tomboy and this did not help at all. I did everything the doctors told me to do and I still looked like a reptile. In seventh grade, there was a white spot on my cheek the size of a nickle that would not go away. By the time it went away, it was eighth grade. I kept my hands shoved into my pockets because the skin on my hands and feet peeled the entire year. That's no exaggeration. It wasn't until I was 19 that I realized all of the stress and depression was wreaking havoc on my eczema. I went completely through adolescence trying to be invisible. I never got to try on make up or perfume. I wore gigantic clothes to hide my horrendous skin. I thought I would never be in a relationship because of it. That is until I did find my ex at 18. She was super patient with my skin. She kissed my breakouts which is gross and kind. I began to feel less stress. I combined everything the doctors told me with research we did together and my skin was clear within a year. I was very grateful for her. It's the nicest thing I can say about her, but that's another story. To this day, you would never know I have eczema. I try everyday to stay healthy and it's working. Happy ending right?

Now in my thirties, when I have everything down to a system, I'm developing vitiligo. The worst thing about it is I'm losing pigmentation all over my legs. They are all splotchy and I am already yellow as it is. The best thing about it is it is progressing so fast that I should look like Michael Jackson by next year. I went to a dermatologist last year who not only told me that I had syphilis [despite my loud protest that I'm not sexually active], but also said it wasn't vitiligo. Needless to say, I never went back to that crackpot again. I spent so much time getting good with my skin and now I feel like that little kid again. Every time I see my legs, there are more white spots. Every 95 degree day begins with a debate about whether I want to wear shorts. I'm stressed again. My friends say there is nothing to be ashamed about. Every shower is punctuated by tears after the discovery of more fucking spots every fucking day. So I have to ask myself "Am I just vain?". It's funny how you never see something until you have it. I literally see people with vitiligo every single day and they seem fine. So what the hell am I crying about? I am fortunate that I am fair skinned. I can see positives. It doesn't hurt. At all. By next year, I will be the white person with the best looking dreads. My eczema is not acting up and eventually I'll be good with turning white. I just wished that day was now.