My recovery story is now available on the BDD Foundation website.
Here is an except…
“I still have a way to go before I can sit in a hair salon and not blur my eyes in front of the mirror; however, I no longer stress over bad hair days, I just swish my glasses into the hairband position.”
Once an impossible dream, here I am lounging outside in the midday sun.
I’ve not checked the mirror today, though I’m not quite bare-faced because I’m still wearing yesterday’s makeup. I haven’t gotten so far in my recovery that I can just grin and bear it all. Day-old makeup is a step in my desensitisation process. Still, I’m acutely aware that someone could stroll up the path and see me raw.
My husband approaches and I fight the instinct to shrink away. Instead of increasing facial camouflage, I slip my glasses up to form a hairband. This is not entirely innocent, rather a reconfiguration because I’m covertly concealing my hair parting. My hands jerk to cover my face, though I keep them on my book until the sensation fades.
Seven years ago, four layers of window-dressing shrouded me in perpetual darkness. Facing daylight demanded days of preparation, fighting through rituals, as I struggled to make my face publicly acceptable. I would wash and reapply makeup until my skin burned, rendering me housebound and without groceries for yet another day.
Explore the full article and show your support for the BDD Foundation by reading it here.
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