Pop that Pimple

It has been a long journey for me and my diagnosed grade 4 acne. My journey began when I was 19, with pustules, blue and purple cysts that came in twins and triplets filling literally every inch of my cheeks and jawline. Much like the picture you see above. I never had breakouts in my high school years, and when it came, it sure came with a vengeance. Ready to attack. Pore by pore. I was a prisoner within my own skin.

It would hurt to sleep on my cheeks because of the throbbing pain. Crying was normal. My self-esteem questioned. I mean...I cleansed, and scrubbed, and NEVER slept with my make-up on. Still, their heads kept poking out, sometimes playing hide and seek. Leaving, only to come back again later in the same spot sticking it's nasty white tongue out.


"Oh, it'll go away, it's normal for teenagers."
"It's because you need to cleanse more."
"Do you change your pillow cases?"
"Use proactive!"
"It's because you're oily"
"Have you tried Accutane?"
"Don't touch your face. Just leave it alone."
"Just put alcohol on your whole face."


Really? REALLY? You think I'm a dirty teenager, that loves to mess with my face, and that I haven't tried all the products out there? Products promising to cure you to having beautiful, healthy, glowing skin. Money back guaranteed y'all! And if the products aren't good enough, just go through the miracle drug called Accutane that'll make have extreme dry eyes, mind go crazy, dry lips, and possible liver damage for the rest of your life. Yea....I pass. (Though in desperation I tried it for a couple of weeks. Half the dosage prescribed. My stomach felt like it was burning to ashes, had nightmares like no other, and my eyes couldn't stop blinking for the desperation of saline)

Oh if they only understood! The pain that I go through. The money that I've spent. The hours wasted through extracting, masking, cleansing, scrubbing. The disgust I feel when I look at my own face. The tears shed because NOTHING would work.

Well...10 years later, I became an esthetician, and I still suffer from cystic acne. Did I find a cure? Nope. Sure didn't. Because it's a disease. Just like diabetes, arthritis, or even psoriasis. There's no cure. So don't believe the lies. Sure, some of the lucky ones stopped breaking out so much after high school. But they still have occasional breakouts. A myth that so many people still believe. I have clients even in their 50's that still suffer from breakouts. And through a healthy lifestyle and strict regimen, I am able to help them control their skin, not let the skin control them.

Yes, you can control it, balance it, and really take care of it. I was blessed to work with such an amazing esthetician and mentor, Brea Gratia, owner of Sanctuary d'Sante Spa here in Houston, TX. She worked on my skin, taught me techniques, and changed my lifestyle...my life.

Clear skin truly does start from the inside out. All that fast food, starches, sugar, and fried foods is not only bad for your overall health, but really shows up in your skin. Why? Because these foods are inflammatory foods. It inflames any disease you have going on. Diabetes, heart issues, arthritis, rosacea, and yes...of course, acne!

Our skin, unlike the "lucky clear skinners", skips the healing stage. With clear skinners, their pore gets clogged, joins bacteria and oil, then heals instantly. Ours? Our pore gets clogged, befriends bacteria and oil, inflames, then heals. So we have to watch what we eat. Inflammation is our enemy. I know its hard. No bread, pasta, cake, candy, soda, pizza, fries, rice. You can slowly add this to your diet (to maybe once a week). But first, you need to jump start your body back to a really healthy state.

So it's just about eating right? Of course not. You have to take care of your insides, just as much as you do the outside. Again, there's no cure-all product. So I do have to assess your skin before I start prescribing a product regimen. I assure you however, that through professional skin care products, a healthy diet/lifestyle, and my facials, your skin will surely be controlled.

I would love to blog about everything I know on how to help acne. But of course, like a doctor, even they can't tell you what's wrong without first taking a look for themselves.

So I invite you to post. To ask your quesitons, take your pictures, send them to me...or even better, come see me at my spa. I'll get down to the nitty gritty of things like how to properly pop a pimple, what supplements to take, what you SHOULDN'T be using, and particular ingredients that are so toxic, you might as well rub WD40 all over your face.

Stripped

I became a Christian when I was 16. It was truly one of those fall on your knees, flat on your face, tears galore before the Almighty King type of conversion. So trying to perfect my walk with God has been the most important quest in my life. Like church. I went to church every single Sunday since, only missing a few for reasons like travel or moving. Yes, it was a big part of my life and who I was...a church-goer.

Recently though, I've been stripped. From the body, from other Christians, and from prayer "warriors." Scripture talks about the head not being able to function without the body, and foot not being able to function without the leg...and so on. You see, I didn't just go to church, I was a part of it. I lead, I prayed, I volunteered, I made the coffee, I directed a bible study, I sang, I cleaned, I cooked, you name it.

For about over a year now, I've been looking for a new church. Since I'm a newly wed with children, it did not make sense to drive 30 minutes to church every Sunday any longer. So why would that be so hard to find? I live in Texas. Churches here are planted right across the street from each other. And not that I'm picky...I've been a part of an Alliance, Evangelical Free, Pentacostal, GenX and Baptist churches. Discrimination is certainly not my style.

For those of us who have been going to church for years. We know the drill. You start off by singing some songs, a quick minute break is taken to "meet those around you," shake hands, then there's a prayer, preaching is usually a topic backed by popular scriptures, another prayer is said for the unsaved, possible altar call, more songs are sung, then if the announcements weren't said in the beginning, it is now...and another prayer to end, maybe sing another song, and you're dismissed. Sound about right?

But this post is not about how churches are so "mold"y. Or redundant. Or even just downright boring. It's about why I was ok with not having a church for a year. I mean, isn't that a part of being a Christian? Is being a part of a church? I mean...that's what I was taught.

"Be still, and know that I am God."

One of the best advice that I was given was to put my bible away and just... Be. Still. Crazy right? Aren't we supposed to go save the world? Evangelize our friends? Memorize ALL scripture? Never miss a Sunday and/or Wednesday? Volunteer, be involved, go to bible study...

Oh the guilt I felt! That I was not doing any of these things...and all at the same time, I was completely relieved. I was learning to not be in the kitchen like Martha, and to be at the feet of Jesus like Mary. (Luke 10:40)

I spent my time getting to know my new husband, my new kids, my pregnant body, and my new life. I truly believe that God had to strip me away from the church to give me rest. To let me be. To know that He is God. That even without me, the church can still survive, and more importantly, that I can still survive..

Rest was really what I needed. So I did. Slept in, lounged, read magazines, enjoyed my new baby, watched movies, and slept some more. And it was all ok. It was ok to not use my free time to pray, it was ok not hustle and bustle on our way to church every Sunday morning, it was just ok to Not. Do. Anything. And I was at peace...for the time being.

Not that all good things had to come to an end, but after getting acclimated to my new life, I was in desperate need of someone to pray with. A place to go to and know that we are like minded. Where I can sing praises. Kneel at an altar. Have communion.

It is still a part of me. To be a part of a church. And not too long after, God gave us one. One that my husband and I have really enjoyed. We both have learned from the preachers teaching. No specific topics. Just scripture. That's all.

You see, there's no perfect recipe in the kitchen, in life, or in church. Some of it is sweet, some bitter, and surely some sour. Going to church every Sunday, every other, or not all...just be still, and know that He is God.

My Shoes Don't Fit

We get up, go to the bathroom, brush our teeth, get dressed, and slip on our shoes before we head out the door to an exciting world that as children...was a playground. Now, as adults, is that mundane road to work, to daycare, or to the gym to sweat off that oh so good late night snack last night.

Remember when it was so cool to try on our parents' shoes? Little girls pranced around in the ridiculous high heels that can tear any achilles heel. Little boys slipped their feet into their dads work boots, stomping and tumbling over their own knees. We thought we were soo cool!

Mother's day just passed a couple of days ago. And over a nice lunch I asked my husband...without thinking, if this was the life he had envisioned? Right away, I knew, "Of course, not!" I'm his third baby momma, his second wife, AND I'm almost 10 years younger than him! I envisioned my life to be in the mountains somewhere of India living with a house full of orphans, or a hut somewhere in Africa dancing and singing for hours on end with excited Christians.

Today, our house is full with 4 kids, equipped with clean running water and air conditioning, and technology like WiFi and cable TV. Although I love the American luxuries of clean water and WiFi...I sometimes feel embarrassed that more than half the world don't live this way. But, I'm grateful...and thankful.

Anyone who would look at my life from the outside in may ask: Why would a single girl marry a divorced man? Why would a man with so many children marry a woman without any of her own? and Who in the world would align their stars this way?

You see, even though I never saw myself living in an air conditioned lifestyle...I am. Even though I never saw myself birthing my own child...I did. Even though he never saw himself marrying again...he did. And even though it makes absolutely no sense at all....it does.

Life may never be as you've envisioned. You may still prance around in your moms pretty heels. Stumble down the hall in your daddys boots. Or jammed your foot into those beautiful, only size left over, fabulous leather pumps. Or traded in your pumps in for some awful lookin', but comfortable flats.

Whatever the shoe size, color, or height...my shoes never fit right, and that's the fun part. Finding what fits, and what works with my lifestyle, is what makes my life this exciting.