YOU ARE NOT A NUMBER

Please don't let an algorithm try to define your self-worth

Photo by Metin Ozer on Unsplash

Hi there,

I am aware that it’s been a year since I’ve written anything. In the last year I hit a bit of a burn out…mostly it was that I was trying to run two companies while working full-time in the treatment room. That doesn’t make for a very well-balanced life. So I found balance, and I’m back. A story for another time, or if you so desire a bit more in the included pod/video in the subscribers only area. If not so inclined, that’s ok also. Read on for the gist of the message.

Less time in the treatment room and more time with my family. Beach and country walks are the norm now. Photo by Nicholas Marshall

Go with me on this. It will come to skin, I promise.….my body went through puberty earlier than most of my friends. I had C cup breast by the time I was 13 or 14 (ultimately topping out at a GG in perimenopause). My bum…well, it’s always had junk in the trunk. My nickname by my friends was bucket butt or bubble butt. Neither names was I fond of, but when you’re young, it’s hard to figure out ways to say I don’t like that. I was having a body crisis (ps: I’m not sure my body crisis has ever completely left me). My friends were all very slender, not having yet experienced their womanly body. Or maybe they did and they were just naturally not voluptuous. I wasn’t that person that carried extra weight. I just had big breasts and a big bum. When my friends wore a summer top, they looked cute. Put that same top on me and I looked like I was trying to provoke a reaction. Very unfair territory for a young girl. My older brother, whom I’d like to say up front that I love dearly, and I know he was just joking, used to tell me my bum was two axe handles wide. Not helpful. I decided one day to lose weight. Getting on the scale became a daily (if not multiple times a day) occurrence. As I lost weight I still felt big because I still had those boobs and that bum. So I stopped eating and watched that number on the scale plummet. This went on for a long time, and it’s really for another story. The crux here is that I defined myself by a number. That scale was telling me something. I believed it told me whether I was beautiful, acceptable, thin enough. Clearly I was delusional, but I wrapped my whole existence around that number. My friends worried, my family worried. It didn’t matter that my health was plummeting (and for the record the damage done to my health still haunts me today), I needed the number to say positive things to reaffirm I had value. I finally pulled my shit together around 18 years old, and made a vow to never define myself by a number again. I haven’t known my ‘weight’ since I was 18. If I have to step on a scale at the doctors, I look away and ask them not to tell me. I don’t want to know because I am not defined by what that scale says. My health and self worth do not correlate to a number.

Now let’s do a little jump to skin. I had a client in recently that told me about an experience she had when she went for a particular brands facial. I want to start by saying that I am bummed out by this as I happen to really like that brand.

And no, I’m not going to say what brand it was because I won’t throw them under the bus. They took her pictures on a Visia camera and then proceeded to tell her about all the things wrong with her skin and showed her the “numbers”. This particular client has glorious skin and I am absolutely shocked anyone would tell her any different. By definition (in all things we think of when we think of happy skin) she’s got it nailed on most fronts, and she is religious about doing the right things for her body and her skin.

This of course sent me over the edge. It is also not the first time a client has told me this. One client in particular was told by her facialist that the camera deemed her 5 years older than she actually was (I can say from first-hand account that that is not true) and in order to look her age, she must have x, y and z treatments. It was used as a sales tool, rather than an education tool.

I very purposefully did not purchase a camera for our clinic that gives numbers and percentages. Our camera just shows a view of what’s happening to their skin. We discuss and I educate, but never shame. I feel very strongly that we are not defined by a number nor should anyone scare us into purchasing endless treatments and products. She and I discussed how horrible that would have been for someone who had less happy skin. To be admonished first by a machine, and then by a human….is awful.

Photo by Hannah McClune.

Remember this, you are not defined by a number. When you are looking for help with your skin, please find someone that will explain the photos to you in a kind way. Giving you science and knowledge without shoving “you have bad/old/aged/unhealthy skin…look at these numbers” down your throat. We don’t need a million treatments for healthy skin. We don’t need a million products for healthy skin (and the planet doesn’t need them either). We need someone who will guide us through the path to happy skin. Skin health does not mean looking 22 when you’re 48. It means having skin that functions well.

This story isn’t new. I’ve heard it many times. You are not a number. Your skin is not about numbers. Please don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. No facialist or brand should ever shame you into spending your money. Ever.

A little note: I am adding in a recorded version of this as well as extra commentary. This will only go to paid subscribers, as will the ability to comments.

Big hugs,

Pam Xx