“From Stares to Strength: How My Skin Taught Me to See Deeper” by Alexis Anyanwu, 17
Introduction
I used to wish I could hide. Not because of who I was inside, but because of what others saw on the outside. Growing up with severe eczema, my skin wasn’t just dry or itchy—it was raw, red, and painful. I felt like I was always being stared at, judged, or misunderstood. But over time, that same skin that once made me feel ashamed became the reason I found purpose, confidence, and a voice. Living with a chronic skin condition hasn’t been easy, but it has made me who I am—an advocate, a leader, and someone determined to make others feel seen.
The Beginning: When It All Started
My journey with eczema began at a young age. At first, it was small patches—nothing too alarming. But as I got older, the flare-ups became more intense and hard to manage. I remember crying at night from the burning sensation or the constant itch that kept me from sleeping. Doctor visits became routine, and the prescriptions piled up. When I was officially diagnosed, I thought it would mean quick solutions. Instead, it was the beginning of a long, ongoing battle—not just with my body, but with the world around me.
Initial Reactions and Emotional Struggles
What hurt more than the physical pain was how others reacted. I still remember the whispers in school, the kids who wouldn’t sit near me because they thought my skin was contagious. Some people even called me names. The worst part was not that they asked questions—it was that they judged without trying to understand. I didn’t mind genuine curiosity, but I was often met with disgust or exclusion. I started to cover up more, wearing long sleeves in the heat just to avoid stares. I began questioning my worth, my beauty, and whether I’d ever feel comfortable in my own skin—literally.
Daily Life and Ongoing Challenges
Living with eczema isn’t just about visible flare-ups—it’s also about the constant management. My mornings start with moisturizing routines, being careful about what fabrics I wear, avoiding triggers like stress, heat, or certain foods. Even small tasks like washing my hands too often or
sweating in gym class can lead to painful reactions. I’ve had nights where I barely slept, waking up from scratching in my sleep. I have to carry creams wherever I go. It’s exhausting, both mentally and physically. But I’ve learned how to adapt, how to listen to my body, and how to speak up when I need space or care.
Turning Pain into Purpose: Growth and Insight
Instead of letting eczema continue to control how I felt about myself, I decided to take control of the narrative. I founded a school club called Care for Skin, where we educate students about skin conditions and promote skin confidence. I wanted to create a space where people wouldn’t feel embarrassed, judged, or alone like I once did. We host fundraisers to provide skincare products to those who can’t afford them, especially students who may be curious about what works but don’t have the money to experiment. We also work to give back to local hospitals and spread awareness through posters and educational materials.
Starting Care for Skin was a turning point. It made me realize that the very thing I used to hide could be a source of light for someone else. I learned that education leads to empathy—and that even small efforts, like sharing your story or correcting someone’s misunderstanding, can make a huge difference. I began to speak up more, to lead with compassion, and to dream bigger. Now, I want to become a dermatologist—not just to treat people’s skin, but to support their confidence and emotional well-being too.
Support That Helped Me Stand Strong
I wouldn’t be here without my support system. My family—especially my mom—has always stood by me, through flare-ups, tears, and doctor appointments. She reminded me I was beautiful even when I didn’t believe it. My church community gave me strength and a place to heal spiritually. I’m also grateful for the friends and teachers who asked questions without judgment and encouraged me to turn my pain into something greater.
Even my little cousins have started joining me in community service, like beach cleanups and club events. Seeing them get involved at a young age makes me proud—because I know I’m helping to build a new cycle of compassion and advocacy, one that didn’t exist when I was growing up.
Conclusion: A Message of Hope
Living with a chronic illness is hard. It’s not something you can always see, and it’s not something people always understand. But it teaches you things you can’t learn any other way—resilience, compassion, and the strength that comes from vulnerability.
If I could talk to the younger version of myself—the one hiding in hoodies during the summer—I’d tell her this: Your skin may be fragile, but you are not. And one day, you’ll help others feel the same.
To anyone out there struggling with a chronic condition—whether it’s visible or invisible—know this: your story matters. Speak it. Share it. Use it to educate others and uplift yourself. You never know who needs to hear that they’re not alone.
My eczema doesn’t define me—but it has shaped me into someone who leads with empathy, who fights for awareness, and who believes that beauty isn’t found in perfection—it’s found in purpose.