A few months back, I found myself in the skincare aisle, loading up my cart with an array of face products—Stridex pads, Neutrogena face wash, and a pile of washcloths. I took my haul home, stashed it away in the bathroom, and announced to my three daughters, “Feel free to use any of this whenever you want!” I demonstrated how the pads worked and explained the purpose of the face wash. My intention was to arm them with the knowledge and tools they’d need as they navigate the inevitable changes ahead. They were eager to learn, but it struck me just how little I knew about caring for skin at my age compared to teenage skin.
“Listen, girls, if you don’t at least rinse your face with warm water every night, you risk your skin turning a bit unpleasant. And remember to change those pillowcases regularly!” They looked back at me wide-eyed, and my middle child asked, “Some kids at school have the red things all the time. What are they called? Dimples?”
I winced. “Pimples.” An unfortunate word that sounds as unattractive as the condition itself, and one I never expected to still be grappling with in my 40s. Yet here I am, dealing with more skin issues and hair challenges than I ever anticipated. I’ve sifted through countless tips on websites and magazines aimed at women of all ages, yet I still feel too inexperienced to have a proper skincare routine.
In recent years, my skin began to shift dramatically—unexpectedly and almost overnight. One moment, I was fine with my hit-or-miss routine of oily-skin cleansers, and the next, I emerged from the shower with a fiery face. By nightfall, my skin felt tight and uncomfortable, and I woke up to discover it was literally flaking off. I turned to sensitive skin lotion to combat the dryness, only to find myself battling acne. I had always associated acne with the teenage years!
Navigating skin issues has changed entirely as well. Picking and squeezing are out of the question now; my skin takes forever to heal. It resembles an archaeological dig site, where past breakouts leave behind lingering pink spots. Concealer? It just sits on top of my skin without blending.
I’ve attempted to distract from my increasingly dull complexion with eyeliner and mascara, but now I can’t even apply a straight line without it smudging within an hour. I’ve tried everything from budget brands to high-end options, and I’m left wondering if any non-shimmery eyeshadow exists. I feel like a sad attempt at an extra in a musical.
Going makeup-free isn’t a solution either. Some days I decide to embrace the natural look, pulling my hair into a ponytail, adding a touch of mascara, and pinching my cheeks for a splash of color. But when I catch a glimpse of myself in the car mirror, I see a face that seems to have seen better days. The freshness and dewy glow I once had feels like a distant memory.
The highlight of my day is washing off my makeup at night. My kids, however, don’t seem to care about my appearance. I often anticipate the day my eldest daughter asks to experiment with makeup. One evening, as I read a story to my girls, my youngest reached out and touched my forehead. “Mom, how do you make your skin tell a story with you?”
“It’s simple,” my eldest chimed in, pinching her own forehead skin.
“But your skin isn’t squishy like Mom’s,” my littlest observed.
I felt my cheeks flush and was about to redirect the conversation when she added, “I hope I look like you when I grow up, Mom.”
“Me too,” my other daughters chimed in.
My skin may be sallow and marked, but at least three people in the world see me as beautiful just as I am. And honestly, that’s all that matters to me.
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Summary
This article reflects on the challenges of navigating skin changes in your 40s while also highlighting the importance of family perception and support. The author shares personal experiences with skincare struggles, the humorous interactions with her daughters regarding beauty, and the acceptance of her appearance through the love of her family.