Yes, that title sounds both melodramatic and dreadfully shallow. But alas, it's what I genuinely believe.
Growing up, as far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to work in fashion/journalism/theatre. To get a rough idea of the type of kid I was, when I was about 14, I auditioned for my very 'artsy' high school's major annual musical production (dad got a job overseas for a couple of years and we all tagged along), and actually got the part of Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors!
That was my 'peak', sad as it sounds. When I was 15/16, I started getting the most horrific breakouts, and though that finally ceased when I was maybe about 21, I'm now left with irreversible pitted scarring (boxcars, icepicks, rolling ones) that persists despite spending ££££ on CO2 fractional lasers, microdermabrasion, and TCA Cross treatments at 2 very reputable dermatologists.
As you've probably guessed, I gave up on my dreams (I didn't feel like I could work in any role that requires you to look 'presentable' because I can put the best primers in the market on and foundation will still gather in the 'pits') in lieu of a degree/career path that doesn't require me to face clients or anyone, to be honest.
I hate it. I'm almost 30 and every day is a chore. I don't care about my job, I'm not at all interested in this industry, and I just feel stuck. This isn't the life I wanted. How do I get out of this mindset or this situation? Or do I have to find a way to simply 'accept' it as it is?
My apologies for the length of this – I guess this is just one of those days where I look back and feel so bitter about the life I could've had if it weren't for these bloody scars from bloody acne.