I’m a licensed aesthetician. Since 2020, I’ve helped people understand their skin, perfect their routines, and fall in love with their reflections. Skincare has always been more than a routine to me. It was sacred, grounding, and joyful. And when I started this ADHD-centered website in 2024, it became my pride and joy.
That’s why I never saw March 2025 coming.
That month changed everything. A wave of unexpected health issues, ICU stays, endless hospital visits, and a heartbreaking loss turned my world upside down.
I had always been proud of my skin. Proud of my collection of shelves lined with serums, moisturizers, products, and tools. But during medical trauma, even staying alive takes everything from you.
Skincare became irrelevant. Even food did. I barely had the strength to eat, much less care for my skin. And after the worst of it happened, I couldn’t bear to look at myself.
When I finally did… I didn’t recognize my face. Whiteheads, blackheads, and scarring. My once-flawless skin had unraveled fast, and with it, my self-image.
I felt shame. Deep, choking shame. How could I, a skincare professional, let it get this bad? Would clients think I was a fraud? Would friends whisper that I’d lost my touch?
And then there was ADHD
I live with it, and while it already made routines harder in regular life, grief + ADHD is a brutal combo. Executive dysfunction worsened. I wanted to care for myself, but I simply couldn’t initiate the steps. Even the smallest task, washing my face, brushing my hair, felt like climbing a hill with no top.
Before the trauma, skincare had been a source of dopamine, of joy. But suddenly, it triggered shame. My reward system collapsed. I spiraled every time I thought about routines I used to keep.
The guilt was louder than the acne. I thought, You know better. You teach this. Why can’t you do it?
And that’s the dangerous part. Because ADHD shame is a specific kind of loud. It doesn’t whisper—you failed. It yells it, every time you try.
Even my senses turned on me. Skincare textures and smells started feeling overwhelming. What used to calm me now made my skin crawl. I was grieving, overstimulated, and emotionally paralyzed.
But here’s what I’ve learned: skin doesn’t care about your job title. Medical trauma, grief, depression; they affect your entire body, and your skin is no exception. Add ADHD to the mix, and you’re not just fighting pain, you’re fighting your own mind, memory, and habits.
Skincare doesn’t stop being important after trauma. It just becomes hard.
So here’s what I did:
1. I ditched my mirror (temporarily).
If looking at yourself hurts, don’t. Healing doesn’t need witnesses.
2. I paused skincare.
Yes, a pro paused skincare. And it was the kindest thing I could do for myself. I waited until I wanted to return, not out of guilt, but out of love.
3. I started small.
A full routine was too much. So I just washed my face. That was it. Later, I added moisturizer. Then SPF. Slowly, step by step, I rebuilt.
4. I redefined beauty.
Your skin does not define you. A zit is not failure. Healing is not linear. You are not your reflection.
5. I believed in science, and I believed in myself.
Skincare works. Progress returns. But this time, I also nourished the skin of my soul with kindness, patience, and grace.
If you’re in a dark place right now, I want you to know: it’s okay not to glow right now. You’re not alone.
Your skin will come back. Your joy will come back. And so will you.
Warmly,
Gem
Licensed Aesthetician, Human Being, Still Healing.
English