Fun & Famous

KIM K. HAS IT TOO

Oh my, I have something in common with Kim Kardashian. And no, not those smashing lips, bizarre wasp waist, bursting bank account, impressive backside or Vogue cover with badass husband. It's a bit less hot and sexy I'm afraid, because it's psoriasis. Psori-what? A skin disease that causes your cell renewal to go a bit off track. I always categorize it under the labels ‘poorly finished’ and ‘a mistake in my gene package’. It's completely chronic, hereditary (thank you, family), quite a mess-up of your immune system and absolutely not contagious. So you don't have to rush out of the building if you have skin contact with me. It geographically settles lovingly in the knee region, at elbow wavelength and scalp coordinate. So psoriasis.

It happened way too fast and not in a super cool mutant-like superhero way

Here's the thing, it popped up when I was seven. I fell. Hard. On my elbow. My nice little skin in tatters and it didn't heal like it should, let's say. It happened way too fast and not in a super cool mutant-like superhero way. When your skin cells renew nine (yes, nine) times faster, the skin turns red and you get flaking. And that, dear everyone, is food for the dogs at an elementary school. If one guppy head finds it gross, then that becomes the unanimous opinion of fourth grade. If they really have a bad day, it turns into scabies. And you have to pretend twenty-four-seven that you don't care a bit.

Winter was a warm, welcome friend with long sleeves. And yes, I really thrive better with a ray of sunshine on my head. But I never really hid. I got a healthy little jar of I don’t give a shit from my mom and because of that, everything saw the light of day and the light of day saw everything. And when you meet someone with the same (h)external characteristics, the party of recognition begins. You first shout ‘oooh, you have it too’ and then just about ‘waaat fun’, because it's not that fun. Then you scan the skin to localize and ask with empathy on your face if it hurts or itches. I know, this sounds awkward but it's really the usual procedure. But I met someone young who covered their skin out of shame. I didn't understand that at all, because it's not that bad, right?

I got a healthy little jar of I don’t give a shit from my mom

Well, that's maybe a bit of an oversimplification. I was the cloud of dermatological nonsense you didn't want to encounter in the dark. Hormone ointment on the elbows, tar ointment on the scalp and washing your hair with stuff that doesn't think about shine or volume. I stepped into a bath of dead sea salt and almost evaporated in a steam room with a hundred thousand healing herbs. And you know what happened when I said goodbye to all that crap? It got better. After a breathtaking week of stress, it went haywire again. And in the chill mode that followed, my skin was a bit milder. Because here's the thing: there is no cure for psoriasis. You can't get rid of it. Kim K. was just as shocked when she discovered this in Keeping Up with the Kardashians. She also made sure you didn't see it, but slowly acceptance is kicking in for her too. She cares less and less about those spots and blemishes. Look, that's a nice statement. It is what it is. No, it's not fun when you meet a new person who stares at your right elbow non-stop with a sideways glance. Yes, it's cute when a little child asks if you fell really hard and if it doesn't hurt. I eat less dairy (no milk, but cheese), apply cream now and then, and swim in salt water to reduce the flakes. Furthermore, it's just a piece of Adeline. Do you suddenly have the solution for my mutating skin? Then you can of course always email me (and I think Kim too).