My daughter and I often indulge in a little self-care by applying face masks while browsing Pinterest. It’s a delightful way to bond and unwind. Recently, my 14-year-old son decided to join us, but his experience was nothing short of a disaster. He was nearly in tears when the mask started tightening on his face, sprinting upstairs yelling, “Why would you do this to yourself?”
Kudos to the YouTuber Lily D, who perfectly encapsulates the madness of this ritual in her funny video, “5 Stages of Wearing a Clay Mask.” It’s incredibly relatable.
We all have those days when we feel utterly overwhelmed, when adulthood feels like too much to bear, and everything goes wrong. Lily kicks off her video by venting about life’s challenges that leave us feeling like a wrung-out sponge by day’s end:
“All my bills showed up today. Why does everything cost money? I have to pay to bathe, to see in the dark… I’m broke.”
In moments like these, reaching for a clay mask feels like a desperate attempt to regain some control. Sure, I might be financially strapped, but at least I can achieve smaller pores.
As Lily humorously puts it, “I can’t face the world, but I can put on a mask that promises to fix my life!” Absolutely! She boldly proclaims, “I am a strong, fierce woman with my life in order,” as she slathers blue clay over her face, hoping to scrub away her troubles. “I am unstoppable!”
But then the reality sets in — the mask tightens and begins to sting, making us feel like we need to dunk our heads in a tub filled with cucumbers and aloe vera. We convince ourselves that the discomfort is a sign of effectiveness. “This is cleansing my pores!” Lily exclaims, sounding empowered until the mask becomes unbearable and she rushes to wash it off.
In that moment of desperation, she utters the classic line we all tell ourselves: “Beauty is pain!” As the discomfort escalates, she vows never to use it again, tossing the tube in the trash. I’ve made that declaration countless times myself, especially when the mask turns my face as rigid as an old sock forgotten under a teenager’s bed.
I can’t help but wonder if we’re doing this right. My skincare-obsessed friend insists that I should mist my face periodically to keep it from becoming too tight and dry. But hey, beauty is pain, right?
Lily concludes her video with a triumphant, “I am young and fresh. Here I come, world!” We can all relate to that feeling of rejuvenation after a mask, emerging with a brighter, firmer (or at least redder) complexion. That’s why we keep applying those masks whenever life gets chaotic. If we’re going to endure the struggle, we might as well do it with glowing skin.
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In summary, the journey of wearing a clay mask is a humorous yet relatable experience that many of us endure, filled with moments of empowerment, discomfort, and ultimately, a sense of renewal.