I get lots of compliments on my skin in my photos. I got told yesterday on my latest set how nice it was. I won't ever deny it; I use photoshop to take out distracting blemishes, but for the most part, my skin is how you see it. I wanted to go into a bit more depth on how I got to this place. This journal may get a bit gross at times, just sayin'
My skin was not always baby-smooth. Throughout my teenage years I had what is known as cystic acne. Life was depressing. I can't say which kind of acne is worse, all-over surface type, or one single giant zit-from-hell in the middle of your forehead. I had the second kind. I was extremely self-concious, and I wouldn't have dared to take stock photos had I not found a way to clear up my skin. Day-to-day, I took my stress out by picking at my skin. You can't see it in my photos now, but I do have some permanent damage from skin-picking. It's a reminder that self-harm is self-harm. You don't have to be taking a razorblade to you