I have a confession to make.

Now, this sentence may often cause a scare when on the receiving end, an unearthly, jarring shock that may suspend the receiver in a limbo of trepidation. Perhaps you, the receiver, think that this simple (and yet, not so simple) sentence is about me confessing to cheating on my partner, or committing murder, or the theft of a precious family heirloom that has been passed down untarnished for centuries. Perhaps you expect that I will suddenly reveal myself as a member of foreign royalty, a clandestine cultural princess. Or perhaps you presume nothing at all – if that is even possible – and are simply blank, emotionless, uninterested.

Not to worry, dear reader – I am not a murderer. Nor am I a princess, nor a cheater, nor a thief. You may have guessed as far; if you did, I hereby honor you with a round of applause. Imagine me pausing while writing this to clap. There. I really did it, and you’d better believe it. But back to the mystery at hand: my confession.

I am a skincare junkie. There is no other way to put it, no honeyed phrasing or sugarcoating: rather, this is the naked, harsh reality of it. My parents, if they were to be reading my essay this very moment, would roll their eyes, scoffing in derisive agreement. (I love them more than anything – even skincare – but I must confess to you the truth: that’s most probably how they would react.)

 However, I beg you not to judge my parents too harshly; although they may ridicule me for spending an exorbitant amount of time on my skincare routine, they understand the reasons behind it. I had the misfortune to be plagued with acne in my youth (I am currently still in my youth), and therefore, I have scoured far and wide for products that nourish my skin, leaving it unblemished and glowing.

Enter rosewater creams, coconut hibiscus toners, Vitamin E oil, black sugar scrubs, rosehip seed oil, Mediheal sheet masks, pineapple and gemstone masks (there are no gemstones in the mask), exercising three to four times a week, drinking inordinate amounts of green tea and water, and waiting three weeks for a sunscreen labelled ‘Mermaid Skin Gel’ to arrive from Japan.

After a prolonged, rigorous slog through the mire of bacteria and P. acnes, I emerged into the light at the end of the tunnel. Today, I am proud to say that my skin has vastly improved, thank God, and I would like to hope that it has a healthy glow to it. These products, coupled with praying and lifestyle changes, have invigorated my skin, leaving it smooth and mostly pimple free (Confession: I still have a tad bit of post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation to deal with, but patience, they say, is the key to success). I am revitalized, energized, hopeful, thankful, recovering.

 However, there are always drawbacks to everything positive – while my skin is thriving, my bank account is not. My motley assortment of skincare products has seen to that. Oh well. I will continue to have to save up.