I’ve been watching the new season of Project Runway recently, and in their latest episode, the final five designers created custom looks for real clients with eczema. As a Project Runway fan, I was initially excited to see people like me represented in fashion; however, I was left disappointed with the episode’s lack of depth or rawness. The show appeared to skim over the stories of the five beautiful individuals they invited on. The garments on the runway were underwhelming and seemed uninspired. At the end of the episode, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Was this a genuine attempt at bringing awareness to a painful skin condition or simply just a skincare sponsorship?”
What exactly is eczema?
Eczema (also known as Atopic Dermatitis) is a chronic skin condition that, according to the National Eczema Association, affects 10% to 20% of children and 2% to 10% of adults worldwide. Those afflicted with the disease report experiencing a persistent and uncontrollable itch, rapidly spreading painful rashes, as well as thickening, hardening, drying, and flaking of the skin. While the struggles of living with eczema are typically plain to see through the bloody, weeping wounds it leaves behind, there is often an invisible war waged on the psyche of those suffering with AD that is not often brought to light. As someone who lives with moderate to severe atopic dermatitis, it is easy to appreciate the broader gesture that Project Runway makes here by bringing it to the forefront. However, in reality, I think it did little to truly highlight the stories of people who suffer from it—stories like my own.
Like most eczema sufferers, I had flares on and off throughout my childhood. However, my experience with moderate to severe eczema began roughly around the beginning of 2024. I had just experienced a tragic death in the family, and after a short period of familial disarray, I thought it might be a good thing for household morale if we welcomed home a new puppy. At the time, I had one dog already and had grown up with dogs all my life. And so, my fiancé and I brought home Dunkin’, our wide-eyed and affectionate little angel, with fur the color of cookies-and-cream, on January 20, 2024. Like a deep, cool breath of desperately needed fresh air, our grieving family felt whole again. It was unbeknownst to me, however, that a death in the family would be just the catalyst for what was to become one of my life’s greatest challenges.
The connection between the body and the mind
It began with an itch. On the inner crooks of my elbows. Most think of itching as relatively benign because most itches are, but this was different. I was talking with my fiancé on a Saturday morning, and midway through the conversation, I realized I had been actively and relentlessly scratching at my arms. They felt as if they were on fire, and the deep red marks left behind by my fingernails made the damage clear. This was followed by an even more disturbing realization: in the midst of my sluggish daze, I could not stop. In just that one morning, I practically scratched my arms raw, completely destroying my skin’s moisture barrier and setting forth a full-body flare the likes of which I had never experienced before. During the worst of it, I was practically bound to my bed, my limbs swollen, my spirit crushed, my entire body covered in a fiery red rash and wounds. Betrayed by my own immune system. The feeling of non-stop itching stole my ability to sleep. The sensation of touching my own skin disturbed me. I could no longer manage my body’s temperature. I became a shut-in and a sleep-deprived, anxious shell of myself.
Despite the clear urgency of my situation, I was hesitant for a while to seek the help I needed. Trauma from my childhood made me fearful of doctors. I passed the time by doomscrolling through TikTok, where my algorithm fed me conspiracies and propaganda around topical steroids. It was a paralyzing, debilitating, and confronting feeling. Subconsciously, I started to believe I deserved my suffering. I believed that because I was sick, I had to learn to endure. But it was through my pain and endurance that I realized that was not true. Life is not about endurance; life is too short not to be enjoyed. That’s when it clicked for me: only I could break myself free from the bounds of my suffering.
Emergence
The healing process consisted of multiple dermatologist visits followed by several rounds of topical steroids, until I was finally prescribed an injectable biologic medication called Dupixent in July 2023. The feeling of the needle’s cold metal puncturing my skin, followed by the rush of the medication entering my system for the first time, felt like being baptized; I was reborn. Before this experience, I had always been a medically anxious individual who was deathly afraid of needles; now, I genuinely look forward to my biweekly injection. It is incredibly fulfilling knowing that I am doing all that I can to care for my skin, body, and mind. I am newly grateful to my skin for all it does to protect me from harm, and I honor that with a religious moisturizing routine. I no longer suffer from eczema; instead, I am living with it. I think that sort of personal metamorphosis is representative of how my experience with eczema made me grow as a person. Eczema is more than just a skin condition I have or a disease I was fighting. It represents something much deeper to me—a journey of shedding old beliefs, self-discovery, and self-worth.
I have learned that beauty
Mariah Carey, Butterfly
Has to flourish in the light
Wild horses run unbridled
Or their spirit dies
