This weekend was pretty nice, huh? I could've done with a little less wind yesterday, but that is my only complaint about the weather.
Which is strange, because I can always find lots of weather-related crap to complain about.
So on Sunday, I broke out the sundresses for the first time this year. I picked a bright blue one and when I slipped it on, I realized just how pale I looked. My legs haven't been exposed to natural light in quite some time. I didn't even need to check myself out in the mirror. All I had to do was look down and see the huge contrast between my blue dress and my pasty white legs.
I actually have a spray bronzer for occasions such as these (where one finds themselves possibly in need of Vitamin D exposure). I picked up the bottle and was about to spray myself when I noticed my biopsy scar.
You know, the one I have from that cancerous mole.
I spent most of my life practically worshiping the sun. Yeah, all of those tans faded. But the feeling of finding out you had cancer at 27 because of all of that sun worshiping? That NEVER goes away.
You know what else doesn't go away? The anxiety you feel knowing that because you've had one cancerous mole, you're much more likely to have another.
Who am I kidding? Why do I want to look tanned? I wear SPF 30 every day. My complexion has never looked healthier. I'm the palest Mexican you'll ever meet.
Having darker skin than you were born with is not healthy. UV rays from sun exposure (and those fake and bake booths) have the power to change the genetic make-up of your cells. And once that genetic make-up changes, there's no turning back, there's no going back to normal. The sun does really scary sh*t to your body.
My skin is the whitest it's ever been. So, I'm embracing my pale. There is absolutely no shame in not getting cancer (again).
Image source: loopsandpluto.com