Comfortable in my own skin

For as long as I can remember, I have had a few patches on my skin due to pigmentation. I recently learnt that the term for it is vitiligo. Vitiligo is usually caused due to iron deficiency and could be hereditary. I didn’t care enough to learn about it as a kid. I was like whatever, these look like wounds from a recent fall.

Having been born and brought up in India, where skin colour and appearance is often criticised, especially pointed out for women, I learnt at a very young age how things would play out for me. There were obviously some pity remarks from older people, kids often teasing and making derogatory remarks throughout my school. I vividly remember punishing myself by taking extra dosage of medicines, gulping anything people told me was good for me, by anything, I mean anything. Give me a bottle of any mixture and tell me this will help, I will shut down all my sensory organs and gulp it down. A common remedy suggested was to expose my spots to UV rays. I would sit up hours together under the blazing hot sun, not understanding the consequences and just hoping that all my agony would come to an end.

There is not a type of medicine I did not try, there is not a doctor I have not visited in my state, and in a few neighbouring states around southern India as well. Of course, my parents were worried looking at how much it bothered me through out my school. My mom would cheer me up, tell me of all perspectives I could look at it as, but none of it would appease me at that time.

To this day, I barely look back at school days or try to keep in touch with my school mates, because those are the days that are etched to my heart rather than all the great memories one could have. I was this tall, insecure girl, trying to hide her imperfections by avoiding anything that could remotely direct attention towards her. My biggest fear then was that people would notice my spots that’s a few inches below my knees rather than listen or pay attention to what I am on stage for. Thank god, the shoes covered the ones on my ankles, but there was no way to hide the others in the mini pinnaforms.

As I grew up, people around me changed. I would hang out with people that inspire me to do better and recognise me for the all things I am. I taught myself to read voraciously, socialise as much, and often push myself to try different things. Without my knowledge, I had learnt to be funny, learnt to talk to people sarcastically, learnt to make many friends, but at the same time limit my boundaries. May be this was the way I coped with all my insecurities?

The many number of people I met, the books I read, the articles I scrolled through, changed the way I thought. The girl who would make sure to wear clothes that would cover all her spots was comfortable wearing anything that makes her feel good. The girl who thought her vitiligo diminished her personality, looks at it as an important part of her personality.

To this day, there are incidents where there are and will be people pointing it out like there’s something I should be concerned about. I have had my lows and highs through it, but I can proudly say, “if that is all you notice, then it’s a YOU problem”. I am perfectly fine!

Just perfectly fine!

I walked out of my long term family dermatologist’s office a few years back saying, “I am very comfortable in my own skin and I do not think these are a burden to me any more”, and I will never forget the smile she had on her face and the way it lit her up when I said it.

If not for my vitiligo, I’d never learn to enjoy the way I do. To be the compassionate person I am, and of course, be as confident as I am today!

As much as I treasure my spots, I am very much indebted to all the amazing people and books in my life. Thank you my angels🖤