The Harsh Truth About Having Acne-Prone Skin in the Beauty Industry

“What other people think doesn’t matter, right?” Wrong.

Published on Aug 11, 2025

“Beauty?” is the common response whenever I’m introduced as a beauty writer. With raised eyebrows, wide eyes, and a conscious effort to turn their agape mouths into friendly smiles, I can’t help but wonder just how unbelievable they find it.

I wouldn’t step out of my house to fulfill my work duties and meet new people if I weren’t equipped with confidence. Still, the question mark at the end of that one word I usually find solace in has become an unknowing weapon that shatters it all.

I replay the scene in my mind until I grow tired. The suspicious looks probably didn’t mean much to them, yet here I am giving it thousands of thoughts. The frustration leads me to pick at my skin, worsening the very blemishes that made people doubt me in the first place. Eventually, I found comfort in the idea that maybe—just maybe—the place was crowded and noisy, and they were simply clarifying if they heard correctly.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder” is a phrase we’ve all heard before. By tagging beauty as subjective, I trained myself to see it wherever I look (although it’s a little harder to find in certain situations I end up in). It was a reassuring notion, nonetheless—we don’t have to depend on others to tell us what is beautiful and what is not. That is, until I entered the “real world,” where studies prove these personal preferences apply only to an extent, and the collective agreement on what it means to be beautiful reigns supreme.

Kelsey Yonce centered her Master's Thesis at Smith College, Massachusetts, on the unearned privileges stemming from physical attractiveness. There, she stated extensive research articles that have demonstrated the consistency in the views of people, cultural differences aside, on what is and is not attractive. Skin with minimal to no discoloration and texture was viewed to have a positive correlation to health and fertility, therefore making women with smooth and clear skin be perceived as more attractive. Well, who am I to fight science?

Personally, I have overcome many of my insecurities. This may sound self-absorbed, especially in a society where any form of self-love expressed by a woman is easily labeled as vain and narcissistic, but I like how I look. It took years of conscious effort for me to finally be able to say that—body hair, bat wings, and all—but this fondness isn’t entirely unwavering. As Olivia Rodrigo sings in Pretty Isn’t Pretty, “You can win the battle, but you’ll never win the war.”

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PHOTO: Pinterest/minoroblivions.

The degree to which the acne marks on my face bothered me only grew the more people pointed them out. Not to mention, being born in a Filipino household signs you up for a lifetime subscription of exchanged glances and unsolicited advice. I know they mean well, I would tell myself. I know they mean well. It all seems simple to me, but for some reason, it’s not getting across: The fact is, I look at myself in the mirror every day. I hope they realize that I can clearly see my flaws, too.

Speaking of mirrors, we carry a black one with us everywhere we go. When switched on, it draws us into a never-ending hole of content heavy with visuals we don’t always want to see. As a star fueled by teen angst, Olivia is the poster child of Gen Z relatability, so I couldn’t help but quote her. In Jealousy, Jealousy, she says, “I kinda wanna throw my phone across the room ’cause all I see are girls too good to be true.” And chances are, they are.

Access to applications that can erase your blemishes, smooth your skin, and brighten your dark circles with just a few taps is easy to get. In fact, anyone with internet access and a phone can have them, so I shouldn’t ignore the idea that the people I see online may be dipping their toes into making these edits.

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PHOTO: Instagram/oliviarodrigo.

The thought becomes more vast and encompassing when fabricated imagery is accompanied by messages about authenticity. What are we to believe? There’s nothing wrong with making these minor changes, especially when you still look like yourself afterward, because it’s not like you’re pretending to be somebody else. The act is comparable to getting treatments done—helpful for oneself and harmless to others. However, social media’s push for authentic content creates a confusing, or dare I say dangerous, precedent for the standards we set.

Editing visuals is one thing, and talking about being real is another. Presenting authenticity while claiming not to have modified images—when this is untrue—turns social media into a scarier place than it already is. It is by upholding integrity that we ensure the line between them, when they must be separated, does not get blurred. Being a beauty writer for a digital publication, with skin that’s far from flawless, provides an opportunity to build a more honest and inclusive community. After all, wouldn’t people be happy to put a face to a voice in the industry and be met with one that looks… real? One can only hope.

I don’t intend for this to be another one of those cheesy write-ups that channel false optimism—saying we’re beautiful regardless of people’s perceptions, so we should just embrace ourselves and move on. The hard-hitting truth is, working in this industry, what other people think does matter. And heck, I would honestly take clear skin over my acne-prone one in an instant if given the choice.

I am here for a reason—this I know for sure, and I’ve known it since I set this dream in stone when I was 13. But now, when I head out—whether it’s for a meeting, an event, or a photoshoot—people won’t think about that. They won’t see the skills and sensibilities that deemed me worthy of becoming a beauty writer. It’s not the heart or the passion they will set their sights on. It’s me. And it’s my skin—the same one I feel at home in, and the same one I want to claw my way out of.

While I carry the belief that the marks on my face don’t diminish my beauty, the experiences I replay in my head over and over tell me otherwise. It affects my confidence, yes, but when I remember that I’m here to do much bigger things than flaunt my skin, it starts to matter less. As Olivia croons in Teenage Dream, “When does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough?”

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PHOTOS: Screenshots from YouTube/Olivia Rodrigo - A Short Film (Vevo LIFT)

Kelsey’s research supported the relationship between physical attractiveness and meaningful, unearned benefits. “This bias is incredibly unfair, since people have little control over their natural body type and physical features,” she wrote. “Additionally, physical attractiveness provides much less value to society than other characteristics that may not privilege individuals, such as kindness, intelligence, empathy, and generosity.”

The act of recognizing this privilege’s existence, roots, and impact can help shape a world where internal attributes are valued more than external ones. Without even realizing it, you may be on the receiving end of this privilege—or you might be the one granting it. Regardless of where we stand on this spectrum of pretty privilege, we all share the responsibility of actively shrinking it. The marks on our faces can be erased, but our credibility and skills cannot.

The next time I’m introduced as a beauty writer and met with “Beauty?” as the response, what I will be replaying in my head are the years it took for me to get to where I am—both physically and mentally—and I will smile knowing that the answer is yes.

Kyla Villena loves a good lip gloss and a trip to the art gallery. She is Preview's beauty girl, who doubles as a self-proclaimed motivational speaker.