May 28, 2026
I still remember that phase of my teenage years…
when suddenly everyone around me started getting pimples, and somehow it changed the way I saw myself too.
It wasn’t just about how I looked… it was how uncomfortable I started feeling in my own skin.
I would stand in front of the mirror for so long, noticing every little thing… every mark, every breakout, like that’s all I could see.
And in those moments, I didn’t feel like the main character of my own story at all.
I felt like I was hiding… waiting for things to get better so I could finally feel confident again.
Back then, every small thing felt so big… like it defined me.
But now when I look back, I realise it was never really about that.
It was about how harsh I was being with myself.
Because the truth is… the main character was always there.
She was just growing through a phase, learning, changing, becoming.
I just wish I had been a little kinder to her.
She deserved to feel like the main character too.
