Dear you, who have faced the mirror with a sigh, a frustrated frown, or that familiar sinking feeling of defeat. How does it feel to wake up every day and hope that today might be the day your skin finally co-operates? 

Acne is supposed to be a teenage thing, right? A passing phase, like braces or awkward first kisses. Yet here you are, in your mid-twenties, still fighting a battle you thought would be over by now.

Even on those rare days when your skin seems calm, there are still the scars—tiny reminders of a journey your skin has been through, evidence of countless battles fought, won and lost. They’re more than marks; they’re stories, etched into your skin like chapters you wish to erase.

Remember those times when desperation led you to try anything? Caking your face in toothpaste, hoping it would dry out the flare-ups? Spraying open wounds with perfume, enduring that sting because there is no pain, no gain, right? You’d try any home remedy, magic trick, or advice passed along like a secret, hoping to wake up with the kind of skin that others take for granted.

But you never did, did you?

You don’t see your intelligence, sense of humour, or that stylish outfit you put together when you look in the mirror. No, your eyes are drawn to the spots and blemishes that scream louder than anything else. You wonder if anyone else sees anything beyond that. If they even notice the real you behind the marks.

You’ve scrubbed your face raw, tried to scrape away the pain and frustration. You’ve picked and prodded, squeezed and scarred. For what? The same stubborn problem staring back at you in the mirror.

And then, you open Instagram. You scroll through picture-perfect feeds, faces filtered and flawless. It’s so easy to forget that Facetune, filters, and good lighting are behind those images. It doesn’t matter, though—because even those “bad skin days” you see on your feed seem better than what you’re facing.

And what about those moments when someone laments over their "breakout," pointing to two or three little spots? If they’re so critical of their own skin, what must they think of mine? The spiral begins, dragging you down into thoughts that feel impossible to escape.

I know how many remedies you’ve tried—those creams and serums, those late-night online orders, the half-empty bottles lining your bathroom shelf. You’ve watched countless videos of people whose acne seems to vanish overnight like magic. Why can’t it be that simple for you? Why has your skin journey been so tough?

This isn’t a post-promising miracle solution or the next holy-grail product. This is a letter to say that I, as someone who battles acne, too, see you. I hear you. I know every insecurity, every fear, every moment you’ve looked away from your reflection, unwilling to face what you see. You are not alone. Millions of people fight this battle, too, even if they never show it.

You might look at your friends and think they have the perfect skin. But maybe, just maybe, they have their insecurities—they might wish for the glow that you have, even when you can’t see it yourself. Perhaps it’s not even about skin for them; maybe they envy your drive, talent, and courage. We all have battles, even if they’re hidden beneath the surface.

It’s easy to let acne become a reason to cancel plans, to dodge cameras, to avoid stepping out into the world. But look closer—your skin doesn’t define you. It’s a part of your story, yes, but it’s not the end of it. Unfollow those accounts that make you feel small. If your friends are your friends, they see so much more than your skin. Surround yourself with people who uplift you, not tear you down.

Every morning, look into the mirror and find three things you love about yourself. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.

Shift your focus from clear skin to healthy skin. Nourish your body, give it what it deserves, and let it heal in time. You’re already enough, just as you are.

Acne might mark your skin, but it doesn’t define your heart. It doesn’t define your strength, your beauty, or your worth. You’re more than your skin, and you always have been. 

You are seen. You are heard. And you are not alone.