As told to Lauren Crosby Medlicott

One of the lowest points of living with acne was when someone very close to me described my spots as ‘ew’. I felt winded after hearing it. I went into my bedroom and bawled my eyes out. I was numb, heartbroken.

Until 15, I only had spots here and there. But during my A-levels, they got really bad, and I had acne all over my face and body. It was incredibly sore. At the same time, I was struggling with anxiety, depression and some difficult personal situations. I think all of that made the acne worse.

I had no idea how to deal with it. I’m fourth in a line of five sisters. None of them had acne like I did, so I had no one in my family who could relate to what I was going through. My family didn’t have a lot of money, so the best make-up to cover it or the best skincare products to help make it go away were always out of my reach.

I experimented with at-home remedies like fresh lemon, apple cider vinegar, bicarbonate of soda and coffee ground masks. I was always a meticulously clean person, but nothing helped. To people around me, my acne seemed dirty.

The spots were all over my face – the first thing people would see when they looked at me. Even though I could hide my back acne with clothing, I couldn’t hide my face. I would catch people staring at the spots and would often receive unsolicited advice.

“I know exactly what you need to do to get rid of your spots,” one woman, a stranger, said to me when I was on a night out with my friends. I had dressed up for the occasion and felt really confident. When she opened her mouth with her ‘words of wisdom’, I buried my feelings and thanked her for her advice.

A bus driver once told my sister that my acne was so bad because I picked the spots. People felt like they had the right to tell me what was wrong with me and how I could fix myself. It’s as if there were no boundaries.

At 17, I was at a loss for what I could do. I felt hopeless, like nothing would ever change. 

I visited my GP, who sticks strictly to the 10-minute appointment rule. They quickly listened to me about how bad my acne was and gave me antibiotics. There was no attempt to get to the bottom of the acne. It wasn’t even explained to me why antibiotics were being used. At first, they worked, but within months, the acne was back and worse than before – it was everywhere and so painful. 

Over the course of four years, doctors tried me on three different antibiotics. None of them worked. Having acne had a domino effect on so many other areas of my life, and with my self-worth shattered, I had to find other ways to feel valued.

I was in toxic relationships with men, always putting them first. I had to bend over backwards to show them I was worth their time and affection.

I did OK in school, but acne skewed my focus away from education and more onto how I looked and what others thought of me.

During and after A-levels I threw myself into work at a local shop. There I was validated for my hard work, but it was at the expense of my social life and mental health. There were countless times when I’d work unpaid overtime and go without a proper break. After finishing my A-levels, I went full-time and quickly worked my way up to team manager.

With more money in my pocket, I started to spend hundreds of pounds on products that promised to clear my skin. Nothing worked; it felt like it was all a scam.

The acne was only the tip of the iceberg as I entered my late teens and early 20s. I felt so empty, lonely and, at times, suicidal. It was a lot.

At 21 I decided to remove myself from stressful situations. I got a job in Cardiff, moved out of the small town I was living in with my family and started researching natural, holistic treatments for my acne. 

I saw the doctor again and they gave me yet another prescription for antibiotics (which, again, didn’t work) and referred me for Roaccutane (a course of medicine only prescribed by specialist doctors to patients with severe acne after all other interventions have failed) after having waited a year to be seen by a dermatologist. I was nervous about going on Roaccutane as there are so many side-effects, but I just didn’t feel I had any options. Although my skin was almost clear by the time I went on Roaccutane, I was afraid of the acne coming back, so I decided to continue with the treatment.

After six months on Roaccutane, the acne cleared completely. Now, I still get spots, but nothing like they once were.

My experience of having acne made me feel overwhelmingly lonely: my family and friends didn’t understand and society, media and consumerism suggested my acne was a dirty problem that needed to be fixed. I don’t want other people to feel how I did.

There is so much advice on products to use or diets to follow, but little is being done to beat the stigma around acne and support those experiencing it. In this last year I applied for the Plan International UK’s Young Change Maker grant, which I am using to change this. My project, Blorod, will help reduce the stigma and negativity that girls experience from having acne – in school, at home, at work, anywhere. I am developing an online platform, and have designed artwork to counter beauty standards and to promote skin positivity and support.

My hope is that my work will change the way we think about our skin, and lessen its impact on our self-worth. We’re so much more than what our skin looks like. 

This article is part of Skin Freedom, a Stylist Love Women series that aims to champion the reality of women’s skin in all its glory.