The Acne That Never Left
I don’t even know where to begin. Honestly, it feels like I’ve had acne for as long as I can remember. Puberty acne? Expected. I dealt with it all through middle school and high school. I don’t think acne really bothered me much growing up because I always assumed I’d grow out of it. That was the promise, right? That it’s just a phase. But when I got older and my acne only got worse, that’s when things really started to spiral for me. There were seasons where it got better, only for it to come back worse. It was a rollercoaster I could never get off of—just when I thought I had a handle on it, another breakout would knock me right back down.
More Than Just Skin Deep
It feels trivial to bring up my acne struggles to other people because it feels shallow and vain. Like, yeah, it’s not like I’m dying or dealing with some severe health complication. But that doesn’t make it any less frustrating. And when I do bring it up, I usually just get hit with the same old unhelpful advice—stuff I’ve tried a million times before. Wash your face. Exfoliate. Try this, that, and the other. Sometimes it’s even straight-up bad advice, and I know because I’ve spent hours researching, scouring every corner of the internet just to figure out how to fix my skin. But I just smile and nod, because I know they’re just trying to help.
2020 – 2022: The Worst of It
The worst of my acne was from 2020 to 2022, right when COVID broke out. And so did my skin. Maybe it was the masks, maybe it was stress, maybe it was hormonal changes—maybe all three. All I know is that I started getting deep, painful cystic acne on my cheeks, and I had no idea what to do about it.
I mean, I’m in my early 20s. Technically these are supposed to be the hottest years of my life, and instead, I had these huge mounds on my face that I couldn’t even cover with makeup. And every time I met someone new, all I could think about was how my pimples were introducing themselves before I even got the chance to. And yeah, I know that covering them up just makes it more obvious that I’m hyper-aware of my skin and trying to hide it—which only makes me more self-conscious. It’s a total lose-lose situation.
Trying Everything Under the Sun
I did everything I could. Custom skincare subscriptions, manual extractions at skincare spas, switching out cleansers, moisturizers, exfoliators, masks, chemical peels, microdermabrasion, lasers—the list goes on and on. I even went to my primary care provider to get prescribed spironolactone, hoping it would finally make a difference. But my blood pressure read a little lower than normal that morning, so the doctor refused to prescribe it.
I almost begged in that hospital room. Definitely cried a little—out of frustration and sheer exhaustion—because after everything, I was still walking out empty-handed. My blood pressure is usually fine, but maybe luck just wasn’t on my side that day.
“Skin is just temporary,” I kept telling myself. Eventually, it’ll turn up.
I was also going through one of the hardest mental crises I’ve ever experienced at the time. I had so much confusion about what I wanted to do post-grad—whether I wanted to go to dental school, pursue a master’s, or just work a corporate job. I was overwhelmed, bombarded with all these expectations from my parents, stress from school, comparison, isolation from friends, extreme anxiety, and possibly (though never diagnosed, but the symptoms check out) depression.
The mental whirlwind I went through, especially during the last two years of college, even makes me a little emotional to recall now. It was tough— no, it was really tough—but that tough became my normal for those two years. I honestly didn’t realize how much it affected me until I came out on the other side and could look back at it. The stress took its toll in ways I never expected. My sleep was messed up—either sleeping too much or struggling to fall asleep. I was binge eating but also barely eating enough to fuel myself. I locked myself in my room for days, isolating myself socially, cramming for classes but not enough to do well in my exams. I procrastinated, then got anxious about procrastinating. Heart palpitations, racing thoughts… It was all a blur.
And you could see it all in my face. I had a moon face from the cortisol flooding my body from the stress. And then, of course, the acne. Painful, cystic acne all over my cheeks.
I had a huge inkling that my acne was due to stress, but the thing is, that stress was unavoidable. I couldn’t just wish my problems away. Deep breathing and meditation exercises didn’t help—it felt like a temporary fix at best. I considered adjusting my diet, but it felt unfair to me that there were people who could eat whatever they wanted and had perfectly clear skin, while I had to be hypervigilant about everything I ate. There’s a lot of flaws in that argument and it’s not my best moment, but I still can’t imagine a world without ice cream, chocolate, rice, or pasta (and yeah, I still eat those). I stand by that today.
A Fresh Start in California
It wasn’t until I graduated from college, moved to California, started my first big girl job at a cosmetic manufacturing company, got settled, and met new friends that I slowly but surely started to see my breakouts fade. My face even slimmed down—I remember being on a FaceTime call with my best friend, and she noticed that I looked different, more “snatched.” And it had only been a few months since I made the move.
That’s when I realized that a lot of my acne was stress-induced, and graduating just naturally eased so much of that stress. (Also, living in California, where you get perfect sunny days 90% of the year, definitely helped).
My skin gradually improved, and by the winter of 2024, it was the clearest I had ever seen. I was actually shocked, looking at myself every day and admiring how clear my skin was. I wasn’t sure what had done it, but I was really enjoying it… until it wasn’t.
The Skincare Mishap That Set Me Back
In the spring of 2024, my skin started acting up again. UGH, it was so frustrating! This time, I had no idea what was causing it. Was I stressed? No, life was actually going pretty well. Could it be my hormones? Maybe, but it didn’t feel like the usual cystic pimples I get. Instead, it was these little bumps.
One day, I had this strange urge to check the inside of my cleanser bottle. Wait a minute… I don’t remember it being reddish-orange? It’s supposed to be a pale straw yellow or clear. That’s when I realized my cleanser had completely oxidized and basically expired! I grabbed my at home pH testing kit and turns out, it was around a pH of 2 to 3. No wonder my skin barrier had been so messed up! I might as well have been washing my face with lemon juice. I couldn’t believe it. All I could do was sigh in frustration.
So how did my cleanser expire? Well, back when I worked at a previous job, I took home one of those big professional-sized bottles of cleanser that’s meant to be used in a “professional” salon or spa setting. And, since it was just me using it, it was taking me forever to get through the whole thing.
I tossed it and immediately went back to my tried-and-true Krave Beauty cleansers (which I did a whole blog post about here).
The Turning Point: Spironolactone & Tretinoin
I also started a new custom skincare subscription box, which prescribed me topical tretinoin and oral spironolactone. Yes, the same spironolactone my previous PCP had refused to prescribe me. I started taking it, and aside from the first two weeks of adjusting to the medication and dealing with some side effects, I was totally fine. I still don’t know what happened in that doctor’s office years back. Maybe my body changed, maybe it was a misdiagnosis. I don’t know.
Over the next several months, my skin gradually improved (although I did experience the dreaded purging phase with tret, which made me want to quit the medications so many times). But I stuck with it, and I’m so glad I did. I’ll probably do a separate blog post on my tretinoin/spironolactone journey soon. And now, here I am, with my skin in a much better place than before.
Most of my acne is manageable now. With good skin prep and makeup, I’d say it’s almost undetectable. I’m honestly pretty happy with where my skin is, but this time, I’m not too comfortable with this newfound clarity and still being very careful and conscious of what I do and put on my skin—because you never really know what could trigger another bad breakout.
Where I Am Now
I still don’t feel like I’ve reached a point where I can confidently say I’m content with my skin, however. There’s still this lingering feeling that I have a long way to go. But I also don’t know if that level of “glass skin perfection” is even possible for me—or if I’m just chasing something unattainable. Maybe I need to adjust my expectations. Maybe it’s a reflection of more of my mental state rather than my physical state.
Maybe it’s unhealthy to be this obsessed, to always feel like there’s a storm cloud hovering, waiting to strike. I never said I had all this figured out—I just made it out of the thick of it and can finally take a deep, clear breath. Maybe in time, I’ll have more chances to process it all and find something more positive to take away from it. But for now, I’m just grateful to be where I am.
To Anyone Struggling With Their Skin…
If you’re struggling with your skin, I’m with you. And you’re valid for feeling the way you do.
We’ve all heard the toxic positivity b.s.—that skin doesn’t define our worth and that we just need to be patient. We know that. But knowing it and feeling it are two different things. Sometimes there’s just a disconnect. It’s frustrating, and I want to give us all permission to be upset and angry about it, UNAPOLOGETICALLY. No sugarcoating. It sucks! Yeah! And sometimes, that’s all there is to it. Ugh.
But we keep going. We do the hard things. And we’re so strong for that.
We are a living, breathing, ever-changing being—and your skin is right there with you.
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