The Truth About My Vitiligo

I wanted to write something a bit more personal. One thing I've grown to dislike about social media, which I have found myself doing as well, is almost creating a smoke screen between myself and the realm of the internet, because I was scared to be vulnerable. I realised that although I was putting myself out there I wasn't really connecting with anyone. I don't really like that so I want to re-define my presence on the gram and everywhere else where I reside on the internet. And I'm starting with this blog.

With that being said let us crack on. Vitiligo. The condition and topic that has engulfed my whole life. It presented itself in the corner of my left or right eye when I was 8, and to be honest, I couldn't care less. I was probably more concerned with attaining pink jelly sandals and having the best dance moves in the class. Despite my innocent '90s ambitions, my vitiligo persisted. What was once a little spot began to spread and became a series of patches. I went to visit the doctor and he insisted it was nothing—well nothing turned into a big something and we went back. He then gave me a referral and I was referred to a dermatologist. It all happened so quickly, I went from being a regular 8-year-old, to going to appointments all the time and learning words like Melanin and Autoimmune Disease and other big words I grew to understand over time.

And as I began to grow so did my Vitiligo. As a teenager my Vitiligo fluctuated with my hormones and with different foods that I ate. My musical tastes changed as well. I was Emo, and it was so much fun! I found myself relating so much to the lyrics I would hear in the metal and rock songs that I would replay and replay. I loved the strong and wild notes of the guitar that seemed to wash away my pain & felt the deep bassy chords resonate with the very core of me. My friends were awesome—we all revelled in the fact that we were different, edgy, free and sometimes mischevious. I loved them because with them I wasn't the girl with vitiligo or the girl with the skin, I was just me. Happily me. It was frustrating because I felt like my Vitiligo was always this unwanted friend that walked beside me, and we came as a package deal instead of individual assets. People didn't see Aisha, they saw Vitiligo and then Aisha.

Being Emo was awesome and I felt alive and without bounds. I had so much confidence during this period of my life. I would talk to people easily and had a lot of friends in real life and on the internet. I felt unstoppable. However my Vitiligo was dragging me down, I was struggling with my emotions, I felt so much, and although I could talk to my friends about what was bothering me, it wasn't enough. At times I hated what I saw in the mirror, and despised the fact that I couldn't control this condition that was taking over my life. So I began to self-harm and developed an eating disorder. I had never been addicted to anything in my life, but self-harm was an addiction I found really difficult to break.

It became my friend, it was always there when I needed it, and it made me feel so much better. For once, I felt in control. I could decide when, where, and how deep and I was drunk on the power of it. It was the same with my eating disorder, I'd fallen hard on the power trip and I didn't know how to break free. I didn't think it was a bad thing, because how can it be bad if it's helping you? This was my cure, and yet people were telling me it was wrong, but never why it was wrong. At the root of it all, I didn't know how to accept myself, or better yet how to love myself. It felt like this thing was thrust upon me and people just expected me to accept it, but how? How do you learn to love something you never wanted? How do you learn to love something that causes you pain most days?

How do you learn what you don't know? Loving yourself is hard especially when you're young and there is no one guiding you. You fall into routines that you believe to be self-love when they are really methods of self-destruction. Some people may say, oh but it's just a skin condition, it doesn't kill you, why are you complaining? I'll put it as plainly as this: Vitiligo may not kill you biologically but it will kill you psychologically. I can't speak for any of the wonderful people I know who have vitiligo. However, in my case, my vitiligo has been eating away at me since the time I realised what it was. There is no manual that prepares you for handling the constant changing image of yourself, and unless you're really working on your self-acceptance it doesn't get easier. To grow up and never see yourself represented in any of the media, or never see people like you in reality, never have any friends who look like you to talk to, and feeling utterly alone, will eat away at your sanity until you not only don't recognise yourself physically but mentally as well.

I have struggled so much with accepting this skin that has cloaked me for 19 years; however, all is not dull and grim. Last year I did something that changed my life forever. I took my story to the television and went Vitiligo free for the world to see, which now that I think about it is a huge step. Since then it has been such a wonderful journey of self-acceptance and self-love. I've had some really great moments and some really sad ones. I've met and talked to some fantastic people who have inspired me just as much as I have inspired them.

Since then I've been focusing hard on loving myself unconditionally and appreciating myself for the person that I am. However, I still have my ugly days. If you're struggling with your vitiligo right now, know that I'm there with you. Lets keep fighting together.