oh god the beach

Fuck fuck it’s summer and that means hot weather and being outside and sweating hella and water and the beach and my makeup disagrees with all of this!

Summer means hating that I have trich. It means constantly worrying that I’m sweating off my makeup, constantly stressed about hitting something and rubbing it off, the constant need to check my face.

It means being scared to go outside and scared to hang out with people and have fun.

It means people asking me why my eyebrows are done when it’s so hot, or why I wear makeup to the beach and to the pool.

I went to the beach this past weekend with friends. My makeup does not agree with the beach. The hot sun melt it and the strong winds and sand fuck it up, and god forbid I get in the water.

Why do I torture myself by going to the beach? Because I want to be there. I want to have fun with my friends and family, but the entire time I am stressed about how my body looks, sucking in my stomach needing to be either standing, lying down or covered up. Worried about my hair blowing in my face and getting knotted up, but too stressed to put it up and expose my face more. Staring at the water and wishing I could go in and have fun. Telling my friends I don’t want to swim cus there could be sharks when really I don’t want to swim because my entire day is constructed around not messing up my face.

I hate it so much. I know I look ridiculous. I know my makeup doesn’t even look that great in the hot sun. I am so aware of these things trust me, but I can’t let go of my crutch, and I don’t trust people not to stare.

If only I could fix myself. I’m tired of hiding inside, tired of only having partial fun.

It’s only May though, and I have at least three months of hiding in plain site left to do.

I hate this with everything in me.

I hate me with everything in me.

Wish me luck I guess.

– G

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