Queen Me tells all . . . (well, not really, but something personal)
Did I ever tell you that I had acne? It wasn’t minor, either. I had it bad! For over 15 years, I suffered. Not sure how others experience it, but mine came in bouts. I would feel the sluggish, heavy feeling coming and within days my face would start erupting. Many years later, my dreams warned me about the impending struggle and so, with a developed intuition, I would see the “yuck” coming.
When “it” first started, I sought help from dermatologists. I took strong drugs, like Acutane. And swallowed way too many antibiotics. Nothing worked, however, not the oral meds or the topical treatments. Basically, the acne was simply something to endure. During flare-ups I made myself look other people in the eyes even though I felt so hideous, ugly and unclean. Wearing acne was quite possibly the hardest thing I ever did.
Once, I visited a female dermatologist for help. She examined my skin and informed me, “This is the worst case I’ve seen in a very long time.” How do you respond to that? Devastated, I cried. Another time, a doctor said, “Let me see if you have more testosterone that other women.” Seeing an end to my misery, I agreed. My medical insurance covered the cost of the test and sure enough that was indeed one of my “problems.” Thrilled to finally have answers, I returned to the doc’s office. Guess what? There was nothing he could do me. I simply happened to be a great subject for his on-going research project. Dejected, I cried some more.
After ten years of torture, I gave up and quit going to the well-meaning doctors. I simply suffered without medical help. Interestingly, I discovered during that time that my bouts latest just as long and looked just as bad.
Of course, I didn’t come out of it unscathed. My acne gifted me with scars and brown spots (pigment damage from medicine, I suppose?). So, finally when my hormones decided to give me a break, I had leftovers spread all over my face. Thank goodness modern technology came to the rescue. Without too much expense, I was able to find other doctors that could “fix” my damaged skin and products that solved the discoloration.
Finally, relief.
Not sure why I felt compelled to share this today. Maybe, it’s because we all have something to bare—something to overcome. And, suddenly I realize. If there are other women out there right now experiencing pain because of acne (or its aftermath), then I am someone that can offer advice. You too, are someone that can offer support, assistance and help based on your own experiences. Life is about experiences and what you endure you usually know well (just ask my newfound friend Georgia Richardson, a.k.a. Queen of Experience). Recently, I have had many e-mail messages from women (just like you and me) that have experiences to share. Serendipity! Their experiences might be just what we need to hear. And, even if it’s just one of us, isn’t that enough?
Funny how words turn in to meaning something . . .
I had decided yesterday to start a discussion E-list on Monday—a means to get our community talking to each other computer-to-computer, word-to-word. And, only this morning I decided on the topic! It will be named (appropriately so) Queens Supporting Queens. Now doesn’t that make you smile? We can all help each other while helping ourselves. Okay, I’m grinning.
Look for how to subscribe in the Queen-zine and on the website. Yes, it’s coming sooner than you think!
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Join Queen Me and other queens at QueenPower.com. Gather in a place where women promote, support and encourage women. Don't wait till you're ready, have more time, or are a little older. Start living your best life now. It’s time for you to Grab the Queen Power!
Did I ever tell you that I had acne? It wasn’t minor, either. I had it bad! For over 15 years, I suffered. Not sure how others experience it, but mine came in bouts. I would feel the sluggish, heavy feeling coming and within days my face would start erupting. Many years later, my dreams warned me about the impending struggle and so, with a developed intuition, I would see the “yuck” coming.
When “it” first started, I sought help from dermatologists. I took strong drugs, like Acutane. And swallowed way too many antibiotics. Nothing worked, however, not the oral meds or the topical treatments. Basically, the acne was simply something to endure. During flare-ups I made myself look other people in the eyes even though I felt so hideous, ugly and unclean. Wearing acne was quite possibly the hardest thing I ever did.
Once, I visited a female dermatologist for help. She examined my skin and informed me, “This is the worst case I’ve seen in a very long time.” How do you respond to that? Devastated, I cried. Another time, a doctor said, “Let me see if you have more testosterone that other women.” Seeing an end to my misery, I agreed. My medical insurance covered the cost of the test and sure enough that was indeed one of my “problems.” Thrilled to finally have answers, I returned to the doc’s office. Guess what? There was nothing he could do me. I simply happened to be a great subject for his on-going research project. Dejected, I cried some more.
After ten years of torture, I gave up and quit going to the well-meaning doctors. I simply suffered without medical help. Interestingly, I discovered during that time that my bouts latest just as long and looked just as bad.
Of course, I didn’t come out of it unscathed. My acne gifted me with scars and brown spots (pigment damage from medicine, I suppose?). So, finally when my hormones decided to give me a break, I had leftovers spread all over my face. Thank goodness modern technology came to the rescue. Without too much expense, I was able to find other doctors that could “fix” my damaged skin and products that solved the discoloration.
Finally, relief.
Not sure why I felt compelled to share this today. Maybe, it’s because we all have something to bare—something to overcome. And, suddenly I realize. If there are other women out there right now experiencing pain because of acne (or its aftermath), then I am someone that can offer advice. You too, are someone that can offer support, assistance and help based on your own experiences. Life is about experiences and what you endure you usually know well (just ask my newfound friend Georgia Richardson, a.k.a. Queen of Experience). Recently, I have had many e-mail messages from women (just like you and me) that have experiences to share. Serendipity! Their experiences might be just what we need to hear. And, even if it’s just one of us, isn’t that enough?
Funny how words turn in to meaning something . . .
I had decided yesterday to start a discussion E-list on Monday—a means to get our community talking to each other computer-to-computer, word-to-word. And, only this morning I decided on the topic! It will be named (appropriately so) Queens Supporting Queens. Now doesn’t that make you smile? We can all help each other while helping ourselves. Okay, I’m grinning.
Look for how to subscribe in the Queen-zine and on the website. Yes, it’s coming sooner than you think!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Join Queen Me and other queens at QueenPower.com. Gather in a place where women promote, support and encourage women. Don't wait till you're ready, have more time, or are a little older. Start living your best life now. It’s time for you to Grab the Queen Power!