Moon Phases
Today I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. My skin is breaking out, worse than usual. I wanted to rip my face off, to disappear, to be someone else , someone with naturally clear skin, someone who doesn’t have to think about how to hide their “flawed” face every single day.
I tried to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t bother me. But it did. It clawed at me silently, making me feel small, ugly, and envious. I caught myself comparing again, wishing I had someone else’s skin, someone else’s reflection.
But then… I saw a post about period from an older woman. And something shifted.
I realized this acne, this skin, this discomfort it’s part of being young. It’s part of having a body that is alive and cycling and capable. One day, I won’t be in this phase of life anymore. One day, my older self might look back and long for this exact version of me. The one who still gets hormonal acne once a month. The one who still feels everything so deeply.
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And then this truth settled in me
Acne is temporary, but my gorgeous face is permanent.
I am more than a breakout. My beauty is not fragile.
The moon is still a moon whatever phase she’s in.
The moon doesn’t stop being the moon when she’s half, or new, or full of shadow. She’s still the moon.
So am I.
Every version of me is valid. Even the ones with swollen cheeks and red spots and bloated days. Even the ones who cry in front of the mirror, then wipe their tears and keep going.
I’m not broken. I’m just cycling. Healing. Living.
And I think that’s kind of beautiful to be alive.
