The first time I realized I "might be" beautiful was while looking at myself in the mirror - as a 17-year-old - with no acne. Thinking so, because I noticed a slight lemony glow setting in on my whole face. I had a light wheatish complexion and I didn't understand what this glow was all about. It was understandable that this was part of growing up. Even though girls of my age understood things, I was a little different. I was too naive to understand things. A year later, I assumed I may not be beautiful after all because I started having acne. Then started a struggle of self-acceptance, doing everything possible to get rid of it. Most days, the trigger would be anything.
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