I'm Obsessed with Skincare (And it's Helping Me Self-Heal)
By Sola Onitiri
I’m just trying to be sun-soaked and well watered
There are a few things that are classically, typically, and often stereotypically seen as “millennial”. Killing fast-food chains and not being able to buy a home because of our love of avocado are just a few that come to mind.
These laughable stereotypes were the original inspiration behind this very platform. I needed a place for myself and my peers to express what really goes on in our lives.
All of that being said, it is with a heavy heart that I expose myself as a millennial stereotype.
I’m a skincare enthusiast, millennial. And as such, the pursuit of blemish-free, bright, glass skin goes beyond trendy aesthetics. It has transcended into the realm of healing and thus this long personal essay.
Please hold your forlorn sighs until the end of the article and allow me to explain. And when you’re done with reading allow me to introduce my new Youtube Channel format where I summarize everything I’m writing now. It’s at the bottom of the post. Check it out!
So how did this happen to me?
Let’s do a bit of time traveling. Imagine, if you dare, the year is 2005, I’m a tragically awkward teen with boobs too big for her frame and permed hair I insist on wearing out despite it having nobody.
*Insert shudder*
Evidently, times were quite hard. However, because the universe gives you everything you need to succeed, I had damn near immaculate skin. Blemish free and smooth, I had the kind of skin that makeup counter ladies would take one look at me and refuse to sell me makeup. That’s not even a flex, that’s truly what would happen.
What was my secret? Genetics. Because I’m pretty sure the bar of Dove soap and the cocoa butter lotion I use to apply everyone once in a while wasn’t really carrying the team on their backs.
Then I hit my 20s and real-life kicked in and subsequently kicked me in the face. A combination of late nights without washing off my cheap makeup, a diet composed of mostly carbs, and chronic stress introduced acne to my life for the very first time.
And over the years I’ve gone in and out of caring for my skin. My breakouts were never really all that intense enough for me to dedicate time and money to them. Plus, anyone with depression can tell you that the first thing to go is grooming and cleaning.
Then came the pandemic.
Covid-19 changed a lot for me. After about a month of just crying (who can relate? Woo!) I had time to really stop and think. Mind you, I was still working, but I was presented with more time than I’ve had since, I don’t know forever? And the more I sat in my apartment, the more realizations I had about the way I was living my life. The results of that evaluation were, harrowing.
My quality of life was bad. Sure I had a nice apartment and a good job, friends, and family. But I wasn’t doing well - both inside (mental health-wise) and out (my physical health). For the longest time, there was a part of me that didn’t want to admit that. Admission to that is an admission of failure. And let’s be honest, all of us are afraid of failure.
But this pandemic has a way of ripping through our lives to show us the truth. And the truth of it was that as a black woman, I am more at risk of a variety of health issues and Covid-19 is now on the top of that list.
So I made (and will continue to make) A LOT of changes. It’s an ongoing process but let’s just say it started with implementing a seven to an eight-step skincare routine.
It’s no so much the products, but the ritual of it all. It’s something that I would make myself do every day. Rain or shine, depressed, or feeling good. No matter what, I need to put that Vitamin C serum on.
It’s also served as a meditation of sorts. Which I desperately needed. Chronically stressed and overworked people like myself rarely take time for themselves. And if we do, it’s usually through a wild act of escapism.
So you can imagine how patting in an essence mist for a minute or so allows me to slow down and catch in with myself.
So I’m a skin care enthusiast with an exhaustive routine, much like a lot of millennials who can’t afford houses. But if it will continue to help me heal, I’ll continue to lather that cleansing balm on.