There are 592 photos in the hidden folder on my phone and not one of them is seductive. I’ve been keeping a visual diary of my skin struggles since June 2020. The first selfie shows a few unsightly red blotches dotted on my cheek, brow and forehead. Over the following years, it’s pretty much the same three shots on repeat: face-on, left side, right side, sometimes smiling, often crying. I’ve become hardened to looking at my various states of distress but I rarely have the courage to open this folder of photos.
I had severe eczema as a child, but by the age of seven it had disappeared almost completely. Around the age of 30, I noticed little patches starting to creep back in. It was a stressful time – work, relationships, life – and it’s not unusual for skin conditions to ebb and flow in this way, but it was unnerving nevertheless. I went to my GP and was prescribed low potency topical steroids. The rash went away briefly, but it always came back.
