I am huge. Giant even. I am everywhere. I take up all the space around me so that other people don’t have any choice but to stare at me and feel suffocated by my presence. I am anxious. I am overpowering everyone, overwhelming them. They are disgusted and find me highly unattractive. They fear me and wish they would never encounter me in this lifetime. They don’t want to see me, but it seems like that’s the only thing they’re capable of doing. Or not? I am confused. Who am I? Can you guess?
“You’re acne! Right?”
Am I, though…?
“Well, let’s see. Every time I get you on my body, ESPECIALLY on my face, I feel exactly that way. ESPECIALLY if you are one giant pimple, sitting so close to my eye. I cannot mistake that feeling for any other, believe me, so I know that’s you!”
Okay. Can you tell me more?
“Gladly. Every time I get you, I’m afraid of going anywhere outside because I decided, ever since I was little, that I don’t want to wear any makeup other than decorative. I’m afraid that people will see you and think that’s me—that’s who I am. I’m afraid they will think I’m disgusting and won’t accept me. I’m afraid they will automatically think only about you when they see me. I’m terrified they’ll think less of me because of you, and they’ll pity me.”
Okay, so, if I understand everything correctly, if I indeed am acne, then you are jealous of me. Correct?
“WHAT?! That’s not what I said at all! I said that I find you disgusting and that I’m afraid you’re ruining my life!”
I got that. But aren’t you the one living your life for yourself? I’m just sitting here, not moving anywhere. It’s you who interacts with others and does all the activities throughout the day. Now, my question to you is, again, even if I were acne, have I ever gotten bigger than you? So big that I would fully or even partially eclipse you?
“Well, no, not physically, but….”
Not physically? But you’re saying that I am acne. I cannot be anything other than physical, then. I don’t have a voice, a personality, or—if we’re being dramatic—a soul. Unlike you, I must say.
“Okay, hold on for a minute here. I’m not fully getting what you’re saying.”
Oh, I think you are. Look, if I am acne and I have no actual ability to move anywhere, talk to anyone, or cause them any pain, then, again, why are you so frustrated with me?
“Fine, okay, I’ll play your game. If you are not acne, then who the hell are you?”
So glad you finally decided to ask. I won’t torture (very funny tip for you) you and make you guess. Just reread your second answer to me. You already said yourself what I am. Almost.
“Wait. No way. A feeling?? No way. It cannot be! I only feel that way when I have acne! That must mean something!”
Absolutely, you’re right, it does. From what you described earlier, you are jealous of your acne. You think about it so often that I have no choice but to occur inside you. Perhaps you don’t want to admit it, but deep down, you are in awe of how incredibly prominent, bright, and expressive your acne—or overall your body—is. Every time it wishes to express itself and the emotions you are trying to hide and suppress, it doesn’t wait for anyone’s permission, and it doesn’t let anyone shut it up. It wants to color itself. It suffers. It screams with various symptoms.
When your body sees that you’re indignant and trying to act as if everything’s fine, it asks acne to shine like a star so brightly on your face because it knows it will not tolerate such crap from anyone, INCLUDING ME! Your body says, “Hmm, if she cannot protect and express herself, I will show her, teach her how to do it, and I’ll do it for her until she learns, and EVEN THEN!”
Yes, you are jealous. You bring me into the picture because you want to think you are a small and vulnerable human being, weak and incapable of anything. You want me to keep proving it to you. But deep down, you wish you could express yourself AS BRIGHTLY AND BRAVELY as your body does. Unabashed. It doesn’t ask even you when to send acne or any other symptom. It doesn’t have “right” and “wrong” days. It doesn’t have a calendar. It simply shows up at random, whenever it likes, and says, “Hey, I am here. I see that you’re bloody enraged or anxious right now, and I want us to express that. I’ll use all the paints that I can, all the body parts—we’ll all work together to show you that we are here, and we will not stay silent. We are incredibly bright, incredibly bold. We did not come here to stay speechless and always be convenient for someone else. We are important. We matter, and I’ll show you that, time and time again.”
“Wow…I don’t know what to say. All I know is that I’ve become very sad now because you are probably right. My body is very expressive.”
It is. But so are you. It’s your body, after all. You are whole, not separate. You’ll learn, don’t worry.
“But how? And I did not fully get who you are as well.”
It’s okay. We’ll talk again soon, don’t worry. You have a lot to think about, so I’ll leave you to it, but you won’t have to wait too long now, I promise. ❤️
“Thank you. Truly.”
And thank you, my dear readers, for reading this dialogue. I often have such conversations in my head, but I think writing them here may make a bit more impact for both you and me. I’ll continue this conversation later since I already know what I want to say and do next. However, to keep this article at least a little structured, that is what we’re dealing with right now. I am grateful that you’ve spent your time reading this, and I want both you and me to know that we’re not alone with this. Never. It just takes time to accept that. 💗 Hope reading it was somehow insightful for you, and as always…
Love,
The Alien Girl
