it's a streaky, blotchy mess

Anyone who knows me knows that I glow in the dark. Seriously. I am sunburned by a night light. I have skin so white it's almost see through. The only thing breaking up the monotony of eye-searing white is the millions of freckles. To quote the song, I'm a whiter shade of pale.

It bothered me as a kid because I was a child in the 80's and early 90's when tan was the style. I was teased, called names, and in extreme cases completely ostracized. As an adult my skin is often complimented, because pale is the new black! Sunblock is the 'in' thing to do! Still, remnants of that insecurity remain.

Result? Experimentation with tanning lotions and sprays. I'm sure that for people who have a semi-decent color base to work with, these sprays work just fine. You get the look you crave without all the dangerous UV rays and skin-cancer-causing-sunshine! When you start with a blank canvas, literally white as a sheet blank, it's a different story.

I look orange. Blotchy, streaky, and orange. Why do I keep trying? Why is looking tan so important to me? Is it because of my bad experiences as a child? Am I still trying to fit in and look like everyone else? Why can't I celebrate and be proud of this part of me that is so unique and will make me look 30 when I'm 50?

Now I have to take an hour long bath every day until this mess soaks out of my skin. It's bad timing too that the temperature outside is in the high 80's, because I'll be wearing long pants and long sleeves for a day or two. *groan*