The majority of kids are, when hitting puberty age, suddenly attacked by zits. Nowadays they are not called sits, but skin imperfections or infected areas. Why can’t they just call them as they see it – zits?
I remember when I first hit the zit-age, I was absolutely mortified about getting these little mountains on my face. But, I quickly realized that my facial outbreaks were minor compared to some of my friends, who for some reason looked like pizza face for the next few years.
When I had an “outbreak” then it was just one or two little red spots, but they normally ended up on the tip of my nose.
Once, one of these little red dudes turned into a category 9 zit. It doubled the size of my nose, made it glow at night and it was soar as hell. The slightest touch and I would get tears in my eyes. I knew it had to go, but how do you start.
The battle lasted for 28 minutes locked inside the toilet in front of the mirror, with tears of pain rolling down my face and zit lava on the sink + mirror. The traces of a severe battle was all over the toilet. It was as if a monster had taken refuge on my face. I’m sure the screams I uttered worried my parents, but they wisely kept their distance.
When I finally emerged, my mum calmly told that I could stay home from school. Was my face that bad? I appreciated her sympathy and ran into my room to relax. Unable to touch my nose or smell for days, the swelling reduced over time, so my friends had plenty of time to make fun of me … Rudolph, lighthouse, emergency button, etc.
My sister was the usual teenage / puberty girl, and would spend up to an hour in the toilet fixing her facial imperfections. During her final year in puberty, she was in the US as an exchange student, and discovered the World of remedies in regards to facial aids – or zit killers is more accurate.
I was as a result introduced to Zeebreeze when she returned to Denmark. Zeebreeze is this facial cleansing alcohol, which probably wasn’t regulated, but it did miracles to puberty skin. No shit!
You gently poured some Zeebreeze on a piece of cotton, rubbed it all over your face and did this treatment daily … NOT too close to nostrils, eyes or lips. This stuff was like smearing pure alcohol on your skin, and gave it a coolish sensation. What really happened was that Zeebreeze “burned” off the top layer of the skin, leaving an extremely dry and sensitive top layer skin.
It was so strong that your skin became super sensitive to any touch or lotion, but at least you had smooth facial skin (or what was left of your facial skin). I’m certain that if you used it consistently for a month, you would be able to drink through your cheeks, as the skin would’ve slowly been burned away. But at least you don’t have a skin problem … you don’t have skin left.
These days, kids are dragged off to the closets dermatologist, to find a miracle cure for these skin eruptions. Can’t parents just accept that these little obstacles are part of puberty. Where has the “funfilled” experiences gone, where you hear teenager scream of horror in front of the mirror, as they battle their skin imperfections? Isn’t that part of growing up?
Before we know it, teenagers will be making appointments with the local plastic surgeon, to get face-lifts or skin treatments. They’ll all end up looking like Michael Jakscon or ZaZa Gabor well before they hit the tweens.
I know my daughter is only eight years old, but when she gets her first little mountain on her face, I’ll be the first to cheer her on in front of the mirror. That’s part of puberty and part of growing up 🙂