I am Brave; I am Bruised

This is my face.

No, it's not my face after a big long cry. No, it's not my face after getting beaten up.

This is my face.

I've struggled with skin problems and eczema for at least a decade.

Most doctors said (back when I was 12 or so) that I would lose it as I got older, but it's continually gotten worse. Now that it's winter, I wish I could be frozen in gelatin or something and woken up later, although warm weather doesn't truly heal it.

My fingers crack and bleed. Same with the corners of my mouth.

I have bruises and scabs from when the itching is just too terrible to resist scratching.

I wake up in the middle of the night clawing at my skin, and I try to wear socks over my hands when I sleep so I don't do too much damage in the night. 

And I feel ugly and frustrated and quite literally uncomfortable in my own skin.

I'm not telling you this to pity me.

I'm telling you this because a) I know there are others out there who struggle with similar problems, and it is always easier to struggle with someone else than it is to struggle alone; and b) so that you know that I have not reached a place where I love my body perfectly all the time. Not even close.

But I am trying.

Today, I almost didn't go to class purely because I didn't want to be seen, or have someone else ask if I was okay or if I was having an allergic reaction to something.

Yes, it is entirely stupid and shallow to give up my own education for something like that, yet I was genuinely thinking about it.

But I'm here. I did it anyway.

So how did I get past that awful feeling that made me want to stay home?

In some ways, I didn't. My skin still burns and stings and I can't turn my head without my neck hurting, and I'm still angry and have a hard time looking at myself in the mirror.

But I thought about what my body really is.

My body is a gift.

It is capable of so many wonderful things.

It is a marvelous work of creation.

It is a symbol of my Heavenly Father's love for me.

My body may not be perfect, but it was made by One who is.

Tbh, I still wouldn't have made it out of the house without my own personal jam session with this anthem:

I am brave.

I'm putting my worst face forward, because I know there are more important things in life besides how I look.

I am bruised.

Literally and figuratively.

I am who I'm meant to be.

Just as God made me, even in this imperfect body.

This is me.