My Rosacea (?): An Evolving Journey, Part 1

Ironically, it all started just before one of the happiest days of my life. I had never tried a chemical peel, but upon a good friend's recommendation, I scheduled one a couple weeks before my wedding in 2017. 

In between gabbing about her teenage daughter's friendship drama, the aesthetician informed me that since I hadn't ever had a peel before, she would be using a mild lactic acid formula and that it would be so gentle that my skin might not even actually peel. Part of me wanted to stop her and beg for the good stuff. Burn that skin off, baby! I want cheeks like a newborn on my wedding day! 

Thank god, I didn't! Contrary to her prediction, my skin did peel. It peeled a LOT. And it looked horrible—scaly, red, bumpy, and VERY angry. I told myself to remain calm, that it would resolve itself soon, but as my wedding day ticked closer, I started to panic. The day before my wedding, my skin was still pissed, but I didn't look like a horror movie, so that was something. I had scheduled a facial, and this new aesthetician was appalled when she saw my skin. She actually said, "What happened to you?!," which never feels good coming from a skin care professional. 

I told Asthetician #2 about my peel, and she was horrified that the other aesthetician agreed to give it to me so close to my wedding date. And then she asked a series of questions that I initially dismissed. "Has anyone ever said you might have rosacea? Does your skin tend to look flushed? Do you blush easily?" I answered no to each question, flatly, because exactly none of those things was true before that fateful chemical peel.

My angry skin didn't ruin my wedding day, thanks to a super soothing facial from Aesthetician #2 and my lovely cousin/Shelf-ish cofounder Whitley's makeup skills. But my skin never fully recovered. In the weeks and months after, I noticed that my cheeks weren't as smooth as they had been before, that my skin felt thicker somehow. I chalked it up to aging and all the crazy fertility drugs I'd started taking (another long story!). 

Meanwhile, life churned on. I went through 3 rounds of IVF, got pregnant, and had my son, all while moving 3 times in 2 years. It wasn't until we settled in California and my son got old enough that I actually had time to look in the mirror again that I began wondering about what Aesthetician #2 said. DID I have rosacea? My skin still felt thick, and my cheeks were still bumpy. And now I noticed they were red, too. 

Maybe they had been for years! Before Covid, I wore foundation every day, but now it's a rare occasion that I put on a full face of makeup, so perhaps my cheeks had been red all along, but I had just been covering it up?

I began googling rosacea, and I seemed to check nearly every box for risk factors and symptoms. Also, while at first I blamed the chemical peel for my new self-diagnosed condition, I came to learn that the rosacea was most likely developing before I got the peel and that the lactic acid may have just made it more apparent more quickly. (So, please don't read this as a warning against chemical peels or lactic acid! They are super-effective for most people, just not for me, unfortunately.) 

As I'm writing this, I'm anxiously awaiting a dermatologist appointment to see if my self-diagnosis is right. Meanwhile, I'm trying out an over-the-counter product that is supposed to help calm down rosacea, The Ordinary's Azeleic Acid Suspension 10%. So far, it has helped, but the redness and bumps are still there.

I'll update when I'm finally able to see the doc! Stay tuned…