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I grew up with eczema on my hands,
And I used to hide away into the crowd
I hated attention so I silenced myself
But being quiet had its own perks
Everyone seemed to notice me, mute
I hated being questioned on the spot
Because it would mean I would speak
especially with hand gestures and it
would bring attention to my hands.
I always thought I couldn’t speak
publicly. But I learned eventually,
To first stop hiding my hands under
my long sleeves. And not look at them.
Because if I did, everyone would look
And ask me questions like, “what
happened to your hands?!”, “did you
burn yourself?”, “did you have an allergic
reaction to black henna?”, “omg, your
hands are so black!” And I just used to
look at my hands and cry, because they
weren’t like everyone else’s. It wasn’t;
Perfect or smooth. It was inflamed, scaly,
And not rejuvenated. It made me hate
myself because I suffered from anxiety.
And anxiety, what it did to me? It
devoured me. It roared into my ears.
it snatched my confidence. It made me
flinch when somebody touched me.
Accidentally. It made me turn into a
little anxious girl who thought the
world was dangerous and scary.
But after 12 years, I grew out of my eczema
Finally. And also my anxiety subsided too.
I made a lot of prayers to God to cure my skin.
And after ten years of suffering, I finally accepted myself
I stopped hiding away from people.