That’s a pic of me during a great night out with my husband and two of our friends, Adam and Rebecca. Sure, this image brings back some good memories, but to me it also points out my annoying freckles, aka sun spots! My husband thinks I’m crazy, but the sun damage drives me bananas!
I started expressing my frustration with these pesky spots in an earlier post, Erasing the Past, and my desire to “go back in time” and get rid of them once and for all. So, finally I decided to launch my own quest for beauty, which I’m calling Project Erasure. The project consists of me visiting my favorite plastic surgeon, Amiya Prasad, and getting IPL (Intense Pulsed Light) for once a month and tracking my progress — physical and emotional.
Well, I had my first official session. At first I was excited. I liked the idea that I have the power to make myself more attractive. Sitting back in the chair awaiting my treatment, I felt like a pro. First, I’ve done this process here and there a few times so I knew the drill. Second, I’m pretty tolerant of pain (except that of lip threading, which is more painful than childbirth!), so I predicted a pretty painless process.
Boy was I wrong! It hurt like hell. What was different about this time? I had restarted my Retin-A program just a few weeks ago, and my skin was sensitive with a capital S. I had to run back to work right after, and I looked like a truck ran over me! When my husband saw me that night (at a parent-teacher event — probably not the best place to showcase my new look), he was horrified.
I had no idea I would look so scary. I had a real problem on my hands. While the redness subsides in a day, the scabbing doesn’t. Here I had a face full of dark brown scabby splotches (look down below for a pic of myself a whopping 5 days later). How am I supposed to walk around with that? As you can imagine, I worked the concealer and powder like I was a Kabuki actress, but nothing was stopping those scabs from poking through. Even my kids have been asking “what’s up?” I donned a hat for a few days to cover some of my face, but even that can only do so much.
It’s now about a week after the procedure, and I still look scary. But I’m not upset. For one thing, I realized that I’m not as vain as I thought. I can actually go about my business looking like something out of a 70s horror movie (okay, slight exaggeration). It didn’t really make as much of a difference to me as I thought. And, of course, despite the questioning looks from the fam, I do believe a better skin future awaits.
I’ll keep you posted . . .