When I got my first patch of rough, dry, sore skin I didn’t think much of it. I was 20, the doctors said it was pretty normal after a tonsillectomy and sent me away with a tube of Dovebet steroid cream.
Then the patches started to spread. They appeared on my torso, under my arms, on my back, in my hair, on my neck – and the worse bit – on my face.
At this time I was working in an office in London going to regular meetings and presentations and a face full of dry flaky patches was the most humiliating and embarrassing thing I could have imagined.
As my skin got worse, I started to deeply hate and resent it. Read more…
And I’m ready to leave the house
I’ve always been a bit scabby if I’m honest. Puberty kicked in at 13 and so did a face full of spots and a delightfully embarrassing flaky scalp. Head and Shoulders didn’t shift it, Medicated Tar Shampoo that stank to high heaven didn’t shift it, throwing a huge tantrum before school definitely didn’t shift it and much to my dismay moving out of my terrible teens and into my 20s didn’t shift it either.
I’ve spent years brushing off my shoulders, avoiding black tops and spending a fortune on a rather glamorous hat collection. (it wasn’t all bad.) So it is with ridiculous joy that I hear my faithful hairdresser say to me today ‘your scalp is as clear as whistle’.
I love my hairdresser. He has been with me 7 good years. Its one of the longest and most committed relationships I’ve ever been in. I would never cheat on him. I even trek up to London to see him and that’s a biggy cause the London transport system and I do NOT get on.
I trust Craig with my hair. This is equivalent to saying I trust him with my life. A womans hair is her crown and I now wear mine with pride. Yes Craigs dedication and care is partly responsible but so are the changes I’ve made in my life. Read more…