Denim shorts
I want to wear shorts. I really do, especially the denim ones. But I could only go as far as trying them on inside the department store’s fitting room. With every pair of shorts I tried, I knew there was a shirt or a blouse inside my closet that would match perfectly. If only I didn’t need to hide something.
But exposing my legs would be like giving everyone free tickets to a freak show. The red, scaly patches glued to my legs haunt me almost every day. When I decide to wear skirts or knee-length dresses, I have to use darker-toned stockings to look presentable. The fashionista inside me is condemned to an eternity of wearing nothing but pants, pants and more pants.
I have a chronic auto-immune dermatologic condition known as psoriasis. The word autoimmune is associated with other serious diseases like lupus, AIDS and rheumatoid arthritis. What it means is that a disease doesn’t have a cure and it can only be managed with steroids or anti-inflammatories.
I do not hesitate to tell people that I have psoriasis. But I would be lying if I said I am not hiding the condition, and it is not very easy to do. Twice a day, I have to apply two topical steroids to every spot on my skin and that takes almost half an hour to finish.
To expose my condition to strangers and get disgusted stares would be a big strain on me. The skin gives the first impression and having one that looks dirty puts me at a big disadvantage. People might question my personal hygiene or they might even think that I would pass on the disease and get everyone infected.
They would all be wrong. I take a bath twice a day and I smell of Tender Care talcum powder most of the time. Psoriasis was, is and will never be contagious.
Recently, I joined online discussions in groups advocating psoriasis awareness. The inner struggle that I have been experiencing is apparently shared by 125 million other people around the world. The rest of the world’s population really need to be educated. They need to know that we are not freaks. They need to know that it is okay to touch our rough skin. They need to know that it is okay to hug us.
LeAnn Rimes, a popular country singer, recently revealed that she had been diagnosed with psoriasis when she was two years old. Now 28, she said she was through with hiding and wanted to help raise awareness of the disease.
I never knew she had psoriasis. She had perfect skin and had been featured on the cover of different magazine, sometime even wearing bikinis. I almost thought that a cure had been found, but LeAnn Rimes said she started to be asymptomatic seven years ago, thanks to medication, diet and stress management. But regardless of how she was able to control the manifestations, her coming out gave me the courage to not only accept my condition but also to try and let others accept psoriasis.
In an article I wrote about a year ago, I said I was grateful that while there were red, scaly patches on my skin, there were others whose condition was worse than mine. I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but I am writing again for two reasons: One, I want to tell those who believe that the only nice skin is flawless skin to back off. They are prejudiced. Two, I want to tell not only those who also have psoriasis, but everyone who feels discrimination and is afraid to come out to cheer up and stop hiding because they definitely are not alone.
There are other conditions much worse than psoriasis. Those that can be terminal. Those that cost millions to manage. But sometimes stigma can become more painful than a pinched nerve or a fractured knee. Physical pain can be temporarily alleviated by analgesics, but the pain I feel from being ridicule is worse and my fear of it keeps coming back every time I show some skin.
People with conditions like psoriasis are waiting for a cure—and not just a medical cure, but the inner healing that comes from not hearing shrieks of disgust and revulsion when others see their condition. Yes, my condition isn’t as bad as others’. With constant treatment, there are times when they look like little pimples. There are also times when they seem to disappear and I get lured into buying myself a pair of denim shorts. But just as the red scaly patches disappear the fear worsens, the anxiety heightens, the unfelt pain remains. I still feel insecure. And I know my insecurity will remain.
But let me tell you this: I have found new courage. It is not courage of the chivalrous kind, but it is just enough to get me to proclaim to the world that I have psoriasis.
I still want to wear shorts. I still want to wear skirts without wearing stockings. But I am still, just like anyone with insecurities, afraid of ridicule and discrimination. So I’ll start small by making everyone aware of my condition. I’ll start by making everyone aware that I am not ugly. I’ll start by trying to make everyone accept my condition. Then I will hope that I will have either a long remission like LeAnn Rimes has or that I will muster enough courage to finally wear a pair of denim shorts.
Psoriasis is not contagious. Okay, you can hug me. After all, I smell of Tender Care talcum powder.
Maria Reylan M. Garcia, 20, is a BS Nursing graduate of West Visayas State University and a part-time writer/columnist for a regional newspaper, The News Today.
