So I put myself through the torture again of getting microneedled. I’ve noticed the results and can’t deny that it makes me feel good when people compliment my skin, so I guess this is my way of practicing self care of the time being. “Kim Kardashian does this every three months,” my dermatologist reminded me again. “Too bad I don’t have Kim K. money,” I said back, a little envious. Good for Kim.
It’s amazing how different I feel compared to my last microneedling appointment. Almost 7 weeks ago, I was in a completely different headspace. I was lost, drowning in heartbreak and unsure how I could possible have a happy life without him (LOL!) Excuse me while I catch my breath from laughter. Now my vision is crystal clear. As sorely disappointed as I am in that idiot, I do have hope for the future. It’s still scary not knowing where to go from here but my confidence is helping me sort through all that with my head held high. I truly am a survivor.
Today I heard myself say to my dermatologist, “I have to look good because I’m going to start dating again” (as if she asked). Whoa, who the hell am I? Seven weeks ago I couldn’t imagine uttering such horrific words, but here I am, thinking about spending my time with other men. Better men. Men that don’t play mind games, men that don’t future-fake (it’s a thing, look it up) or gaslight, and men who don’t run off on their new wife to sleep with her friend. Yea, I’m looking forward to better, more worthy company.
So as I sit here with my face a bloody mess once again, I feel an inner peace that I haven’t felt in about two years. I can’t help but feel excited to see what life will be like the next time I see my dermatologist. If only she knew the significance of my visits with her.