Love Where You Are

 🎧 Home is Where the Purrs Be

It was another odd week in my bounce schedule.  My stalker/hairdresser was happy when I got home last night. This had been happening for four hours. She'd actually climbed on top of my head. I tried to get a pic, but this was the best I could do. Meemers was in no mood for a photoshoot and had very loud opinions about the paparazzi.

See all that uneven skin tone and the brown patches? Sun damage. There's no filter or beauty editing on that pic. It's straight from my phone after a bit of cropping. Listen to one of The Olds: sunscreen is your forever friend. Use it religiously all year long. Future you will thank both of us. 

In the past I was a tan at all cost sun-worshipper. As a child, my two favourite pastimes were reading and swimming. Lucky enough to have a backyard pool, the only time you wouldn't find me there was when it was raining, and by fall people commented what a cute little brown nut I was. Brazil nut, right? Not nuts-nut, right? Truth either way. 

My teenage years saw me and friends slathering ourselves with babyoil and broiling for hours in our pursuit of getting just a little darker. In my late twenties I was hired at a tanning salon - nirvana! My employer encouraged me to tan as often as possible as a perk and because I was fantastic free advertising. Heh. The place was called Tanfastic and every minute spent baking, covered in nothing but a heart tantoo on my hip, was absolutely glorious. My thirties were spent like a sunflower, constantly turning to find maximum exposure to the rays, whether in our own pool or at our trailer. This was around the time the 'get out in the sun as much as possible because vitamin D is good for us!' narrative gained ground and I felt like a smug pioneer. We've since learned, of course, that we can get the benefits of the vitamin that is good for us without causing damage to our biggest organ - our skin. 

Unfortunately for me, it took a girl's vacation in Virginia Beach in my early forties for the full impact of my ways to slap the foolishness out of me. True to form, I'd squeezed as much sunshine into my pores in seven days as possible and was loving my tan. Look at this. No white girl needs to be that dark. It turns out my top was obscenely low but I didn't know it at the time: 

Possibly because the fridge in our rented condo on the beach looked like this and we tried to pass it off as meeting the four major food groups:

That vacay was one of the most fun girls trips I've ever had. Life threw some stuff at me after that. The great memories of the days and nights spent with four brilliant and hilarious women sustained me and are treasured to this day. It wasn't the first trip we'd taken together. I knew what to expect but it was still hard not to burst into hysterical, immature laughter as the tone was set on the first morning. Purchasing staples was priority, obviously. As we are in fact grown-ass women and all Type As, we decided to err on the side of caution when calculating our alcoholic requirements for the week, made a list and headed out. With filled carts rattling glass against glass, we passed other customers and pretended not to see their judgement, while the most innocent-looking friend boldly stared them down and kept repeating, "Nun Convention" with a totally straight face and making the sign of the cross. 

Nothing was sacred and we didn't care. In stunningly beautiful weather, we pounded back pitchers of the Drink of the Day, getting plastered on the beach from dawn 'til dusk, then cleaning up as best we could to go out at night and be good-natured touristy troublemakers. Our judgement was clearly impaired: a handful of fortysomethings reliving Spring Break in a resort city that's also populated by the major operating base for Amphibious Forces of the United States Navy's Atlantic Fleet, is the eastern home of US Navy SEALs, and a US Naval Air Station. Sure, we knew they were there. We'd ogled them as they did PT along the boardwalk and waved gaily as their boats whizzed by, and okay...yes, we did hang an enormous Navy SEALs flag from our balcony like childish idiots, but it was all a lark we'd bonded over years before and we were having much-deserved harmless FUN. 

Freed from responsibilities, we let loose and I regret none of it. During one midnight dip, we stood waist-deep swaying in the ocean (the tide and stupid high BAC can do that) and chatted mindlessly, hooting like obnoxious sorority girls. I glanced down to see a red laser dot perfectly centered on my sternum. As they turned to look in the direction it came from, we knew whomever it was doing their training out in the pitch black night could be an arm's length away or a thousand yards off. Yet all we could do was laugh and scream hysterically until we fell on our generous middle-aged asses. I'm surprised none of us drowned or got disappeared.

Ahh, good times. That little grannyesque digression was amusing, yes? Back to my tan. Where were we? 

Oh, yes, I was loving it..until the last day. A darker area had appeared over and under my mouth. It had a distinct, slightly dirty appearance. The response to my panicked questioning my friends if they also thought it looked like a mustache and goatee shadow was, "Welcome to menopause." Only a ride or die sistah could get away with that. You know who you are.💜

Since I'd gone through menopause in my early thirties, drug-induced after a life threatening illness, my suffering all the symptoms was over and I knew that wasn't the issue. It wasn't a beard; it was my skin. ON MY FACE. I was horrified when it became more evident upon my return home and patches began to appear on my forehead, cheeks and the sides of my face. Basically, everything but my nose had turned into a ratchet quilt. What it really turned out to be was melasma and I've been fighting it to some degree ever since. It has been costly, frustrating and wreaked havoc on my self-esteem. There isn't a product available that I haven't tried, including years of prescription strength Retin-A, over the counter 'wonder' creams, natural solutions, and cosmetics that promised to hide the problem. Trying to find cover-up and foundations that don't make it appear even worse has been a tear-filled trial. The fact that I had done this to myself with decades of tanning and never giving a thought to protecting my skin with sunscreen almost made it feel like the misery was well-deserved. 

Since then I wear sunscreen 365 days a year and have developed a love affair with ballcaps. During the Thing That Shook Us, donning a mask, sunglasses and hat was freeing in a way that's hard to explain. I don't expect anyone to understand it any more than I can comprehend why wearing a piece of cloth to protect others is construed as a loss of freedom. While it's easy to brush concerns off as vanity, the fact is our appearance is the first thing we are judged by, and we all want the same thing: to look normal. 

When people notice and rudely draw attention to what is wrong with your face, it's mortifying and deeply hurtful. There are more times than I'd like to admit that it became a reason to avoid socializing. Years have gone by when I simply gave up putting in any effort because it seemed nothing would ever work. I'm on the other side of those years...nowhere near who I was or where I want to be, but...so glad to have that defeated, degraded part in the past. 

There are emotional scars, and no apology for how any of it feels to me is coming, but it's a major step to post an unedited photo of myself without fearful regret. That may be hard for many to understand in this social media world innundated with selfies of the generation that gave birth to them and all of us who followed. But Mia gets it and we're proud of Moi. Now if I could just unwrap her from around my torso so I can routine my visage. Don't worry. I won't put that on TikTok because why in the name of all that is holy do people want to spend time watching other people wash their faces? How bored are you??? 

Never mind, to each their own, I'm trying to be less judgy. The struggle is real, but it's a happy day when good results are reflected in the mirror and that means the Riversol products are working well. They also sent me a follow up email with a 30% off code so there's yet another reason for you to give them a try.  

Also, I was so excited to see samples of Clinique's Smart Clinical Repair Cream and Smart Clinical Repair Wrinkle Correcting Eye Cream in my mailbox. Reviews will be posted here (and my Topbox Circle Dashboard and socials) when they're done. Thank you for the mission, Topbox Circle! My quest for the best skin I can have continues. 

As always, love where you are and fight on...xox