My Boobs Are Down Here

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• September 27, 2023

All in all, I’m pretty pleased with how I’m aging. People are often shocked to find I’m in my 30s, let alone mid 30s— so for the most part my genetics/diet and exercise habits are serving me well. But alas, I am a woman so I do get horribly insecure about rather insignificant things. Here’s what I’ve been obsessing over lately: Melasma.

There’s a decent chance you’ve never even heard of Melasma, especially if you’re a guy as the condition is more common in women. Basically, Melasma is a skin pigmentation condition that gives your skin hyper-pigmentation in spots, aka dark patches. The condition isn’t dangerous, like it doesn’t lead to cancer or anything like that. It is triggered by those pesky hormones and it’s extremely hard to get rid of as there is no real cure.

The sun doesn’t cause it, but the sun, not surprisingly, can and does exasperate it and makes it darker. It happens to be genetic and runs in my family. Both my mom and my sister have had it as well as my cousins. Though theirs changed with pregnancies. Additionally, one of the meds I was taking for mood stabilization I found out was probably making mine worse. (Ughhhhh) Furthermore, I have poly-cystic ovaries which is also likely a contributing factor.

My Melasma is the worst on my upper lip, unflatteringly known as a “Melasma Mustache.” As if I wasn’t already obsessing about this, it has to have this completely horrid nickname. I also have spots under my eyes and on the top of my forehead near my hairline. Though it’s the upper lip that bothers me the most. People generally don’t tend to notice it at all until I point it out to them. It looks a bit like there’s a shadow or my face is dirty. When I look in the mirror, it’s all I see. I only started wearing concealer this year (I didn’t even own concealer until this year and I made my mom buy it for me because I didn’t know which ones were good).  My OCD has made me obsess over this  in a really unhealthy way. So much so, there are days I want to retire from performing all together because I don’t want people to look at me.

If you look carefully at this picture, you can see the darker pigmentation on my upper lip. But don’t focus on that. Just briefly look at my flaws and then focus on my perfect cleavage which I’m not insecure about at all. I know it’s been historically rude to stare at a woman’s breast, but when it comes to me specifically, I’m going to start saying, “hey my boobs are down here” and try to divert all attention to my “sin sacks” (lol) instead of my face, which I’m growing ashamed of.

I do realize, on a logical level, how insane it is to be THIS insecure about this. As I know I’m a pretty girl, pigmentation or not. And plus, skin color should never matter in beauty, even if it’s not evenly toned. But, alas, I am a woman and we are subjected to impossible beauty standards and even I am not immune to societies pressure, especially being in show business.

While being in the sun does make it worse, I’m not going to sacrifice being outdoors and in the sun, especially being at the beach and surfing. Though, going forward, I know I have to be more diligent re-applying sunblock. Also, I’m going to have to resign myself to being a hat girl and wearing really big hats at the beach. Furthermore, I’m going to have to wear those really dorky surf hats that clip around your chin to keep this from worsening.

Still, I don’t regret my life in the sun, despite it exasperating this condition. Even in my late 20s, people started to warn me about the sun and it’s harm to your skin. Specifically when it came to wrinkles. It’s not that I didn’t believe them, but I was never going to be one of those women afraid to get their hair wet because it will “look bad.” To be honest, I often pity those women. If there’s a pool, I’m going to jump in it (unless maybe I already did my hair and have a gig that night). I’m never going to be one of those girls afraid to have fun because I’ll chip a nail. Fuck that shit. Life really is too short, and I’m the girl who jumps off cliffs. A life not playing in the sun is no life at all. I’d rather be dead than not be able to run on the beach and jump in the ocean. So I will have to learn to live with it.

This doesn’t mean I won’t battle the Melasma to lessen it and get ahead of the inevitable darkening of the skin spots. Microneedling and chemical peels, both expensive procedures, are supposed to help in addition to also very expensive serums. So I am beginning this journey as well as practicing a more regimented skin care routine in hopes to even out my skin tone. Looking younger will just be a bonus, though that’s not really why I’m doing it.

If you too suffer from Melasma, please don’t be shy to share your successes or failures with me. And you if you have any questions about how I’m managing mine, I’m happy to share whatever progress I make.

But most importantly, to women especially, we aren’t and don’t have to be perfect. We are too often our own worst critic, and trust me no guy (or gay woman) has been turned off by my Melasma. Usually they are really excited about my boobs.