I wasn’t used to dealing with this problem.
Even when I was a teenager and my jawline was perennially adorned withacne, I had dry skin.
Something changed this year, not long after my office building closed and I started working from home.
I stopped caring and learned to love my Day-Glo forehead.
Now I live for the oil.
“My powders sit untouched.
Surely the virus germs would slip and slide right off this radiant mug?
I cannot, in good conscience, hide this light under a bushel.
Nothing now shall dim my shine.
Don’t get it twisted I’m not talking about perfectdewy skinsans blemishes of any kind.
I just don’t care anymore!
There are bigger fish to fry.
And if we need oil in which to fry that fish, I know just the girl.
Now watch seven people share the stories behind their scars:
