The Many Faces of Yasmin Zaini

Last Saturday my cousin who is a make-up artist invited all the other girl cousins and aunties to  her first make-up/beauty course for the launching of her business. So my mum, my sisters and I came really for the purpose of giving support and not because we had particular  interests in make-up. So anyway, we went and we were given goodie bags in which there were those fabric elastic bands (head/hair bands?) which you put over your head and over your hair just so it doesn’t get in your face while you work on the make-up. I’ve always felt insecure about my skin,  but that day really was a challenge. It was like my confidence level was brought down to a level so low that all  I wanted to do at that time was to run to the bathroom and cry my eyeballs out, really. But I didn’t. I toughened myself up and told myself that I’m going to be the  confident, smart Yasmin everyone knew. So reluctantly, I took off my hijab, let my  hair fall, re-did my ponytail and took a deep breath. Because we came a  bit late, everyone  else already had their hijabs taken off and were already seated, eagerly listening to my cousin, the instructor for the day. I then hurriedly put the headgear over my head and took a seat beside one of my closest cousins. I was then handed notes which contained most of the slide materials my cousin instructor was using. This was held in her living room so  basically we were on couches and facing the big TV screen that played the slides. We were also given mirrors each which we put on the coffee table in front of us. It was all  brilliantly done, we discussed a lot  about skincare and how your food intake affects the skin etc etc. I was pretty dismayed and felt really down as I watched the bare yet glowing, healthy faces that were around me. I felt extremely out of place, like  I didn’t fit in. It got really bad for me, -there came a point where everyone just stared at the slide, ignoring my cousin  instructor because it was apparently showing something in bold. and it was ‘ACNE- WOMEN’S GREATEST FEAR’ with an  illustration of a lower part of somebody’s acned face. I was like,  that’s it.  I’m outta here. But again, I didn’t move an inch. I stared along and kept quiet.  Inside, I was breaking into a million pieces. For a moment then I thought I felt my mum’s eyes on me  for a split  second. I answered  quite a number of questions and my cousin instructor complimented on how much I knew about the skin. As I was about to answer that the science-related questions only required simple logic, something told me that my other cousins and aunties would find it ironic. Ironic that I knew so much, yet I  have acne all over my face, -so I just managed a smile.  I’m not  sure if any of them noticed I  hardly raised my hand to answer anything after that. All of my cousins complained about the lines on their faces, and pigmentation spots/freckles and I think I made a mistake of  saying that I find them beautiful. I’m smiling as I write this,  because it’s something not everyone appreciates. 1-‘Something’ being these lines and freckles, and 2- ‘something’ being uncommon opinions and views which society classifies as ‘rare’ and ‘strange’.

So I said, no I like them and I find them beautiful. True enough, one of my cousins  immediately said, “you’re so weird”. Hmm. I don’t know, you, dear reader, might also hold the same views as them.  You might call me weird to say that. But I personally think that those smile lines, eye lines are proofs that you lived and not merely  existed. The difference between existing  and living, my friends! Those are  there  for the world to see that you have smiled at people, and used all 15 muscles (I believe) that God has graciously bestowed upon you. I like them because they simply are beautiful.  And I  write this, again, with a wide smile. FYI I have one spot of skin pigmentation  just on the bone below my right eye  and I’m in love with it.

So there I realized that my views on what is beautiful is greatly NOT in line or parallel to the views of others. 

We got on to the health aspects of the skin and I enjoyed it. This time I loosened myself a bit. I tried to be nonchalant  at the glances that were thrown at my face  every now and then. I admitted that I haven’t been taking care of myself. I’ve  really bad sleeping habits.. and by bad I really mean it. On average I only sleep for 4 hours daily. And I don’t drink enough water.. about 2 glasses daily?  I often forget my water bottle.  My recent strategy was to buy a really cute water bottle so I would  always remember to bring it and fill it up at college, but sadly it  failed. Forgetfulness is in me:( And I’d  spent 16.50 on that! But I was quite happy with myself about some things too. These are the things other people don’t do. Exercising regularly, making long sujoods (quite an islamic makeup course! ;D),  eating fruits etc. I’m in karate, I run and I absolutely enjoy sujoods, alhamdulillah :D Ahem. Not sorry for bragging. Am truly proud of myself for that:P

But as the class progressed, we got on to the make-up part which I didn’t quite felt like I had interests in. Because it was about how your eyebrows should be shaped like, your lips, your eyes etc. All that eye-shadowing, contouring, lengthening the eyelashes, thickening the brows, pinkening (? LOL) the lips. They were way too out my own set of ‘rules’. I only wear smudgy eyeliner and they have to be at a certain amount of smudginess. Not those like Taylor Momsen’s (eww), more like..  Yasmin Zaini’s hahahahaha xD I  don’t know, it’s a personal preference I guess. I’m very happy and contented with the set of  eyebrows I have, my lips, my nose, eyes. Alhamdulillah. And for make-up I live in eyeliner and  that’s basically it. I’m aware of my completely unhealthy-looking skin, but I am now more determined to practice a healthier lifestyle. And that, being healthy is indeed Islamic. :)

Anyway, when they started brushing their faces with blushers and all that, having fun and just enjoying everything,  I  sat in the corner of the couch and decided to be  the emotional one.  Everyone didn’t really care whether I participated or not. After a while, my mother, who was also having fun  having her eyes done called out to me and said, “Yasmin, what colour did you choose for your eyes? Come on,  let’s just have fun!”.  See my mum had also gone through a period of time when she has acne as well. And hers was bad.  Even after 7 kids she  still had it! Hers was a really rare case  and now her face is all cleared. Now her face is glowing and she’s telling me to  have fun and forget what people think. -Indirectly of course. And I trust her. I always have, because she understands. Sometimes. This time in particular, I think I trusted her because  she doesn’t like make-up and she’s just doing this out  of kidness. She’s supporting my cousin and is  trying not to ruin the fun  everyone was having.

For the umpteenth time that day, I shut the book that I was pretending to read, grabbed a cotton wool and slappedmy face with some kind of toner. I followed the steps all the way, adding crazy colours to my eyelids, putting on mascara and all that face-painting stuff. (lol) I did all of that, with a tight throat, and fighting all the tears that were about to stream down because I was trying to avoid looking  at the reddness and spots on my own face. I managed to be done with it  but my cousin instructor told me it wasn’t dramatic enough. So she added more shimmer to my eyes. I looked into the mirror and saw a stage performer instead of me. But I didn’t care. 

I looked around and saw my sister who has a flawless face mashAllah. I looked at everyone else and felt really strange. I  loathed feeling like the ugly duckling although its only my skin that’s giving me problems. I hate it because it waters down my confidence.  I’ve  become so not myself. I used to be loud and confident, but  acne has made me into a broken teenager. I am now timid to approach people. I have recently developed a foreign characteristic of being awkward. I still love  taking pictures but I wouldn’t post them unless they’re been edited. I feel like such a loser. 

Oh what a bummer. I felt so shallow. That night I cried my eyes out to Allah, asking Him why He made me like this. And why me. After all that, I sort of  pulled myself together. I told myself that if I’m going to tailor myself to fit the kind of beauty people’s eyes want to see, I’m not going to be happy.But if I do it for myself, and for Allah, eventually I’d also achieve nice skin and I’d be happy. At  that moment,  I took my dua to a different course/route. I told Allah that if a healthier complexion increases my confidence and I would be more active in face-to-face dawah as in I’d be more brave in asking questions and replying to people without a hint of cowardice or no-confidence, then Allah should really grant me that. Ok so now that I’ve straightened myself up, packed up all the courage I’m left with and re-shuffled all my life plans, I’m stronger now inshAllah and I know who I really am. I’m going to realize my goals and utilise my actual potentials. I know what I’m going to do, and it’s all now very clear.

I’m going to pray for all this to end. And if Allah does not answer it, I know He has a better plan for me. I’m not going to let this get in my way. 

My mum tells me that if I think of these as the amount of sins I have, then maybe I’d be more redhaa with it. No she’s not making a fatwa. I’m starting to get the idea. I might learn to accept it and be a better person, although I’m fearing the accumulation of sins because I’m scared for my skin. Thinking of it this way, I can safely and gladly say that my  skin problem has turned or made me into a better Muslim. :)

Alhamdulillah for  everything, Ya Rabb. For the good and for the bad.