Having acne is seen as something horrible. It makes you ugly and can literally scar you for life. We’ve written before about the psychological effects acne can have on your self-esteem, your relationships, and your sense of self-worth. But today, I want to talk about something different—something deeper. I want to talk about judgment.
I want to talk about how quick we are to look at others and draw conclusions. How often we judge people purely based on what we see—or worse, what we think we see.
I never had acne. I had a couple of pimples during puberty—nothing major, nothing that left scars. My skin cleared up quickly, and I never really thought much about it. So, I didn’t know what it felt like to dread looking in the mirror or to want to hide your face from the world.
But my sister did.
She had terrible acne. Angry, painful breakouts that seemed to stay no matter what she did. We never really spoke about it—back then, we didn’t have the vocabulary for that kind of vulnerability. But looking back, I wonder if that’s why she spent so much time alone, holed up in her room. Maybe it wasn’t just teenage moodiness. Maybe it was shame. Maybe it was feeling like no one could understand what she was going through.
Years later, my own daughter walked that same road.
She struggled with acne for years. Not just a few pimples now and then—real, persistent, painful acne that left marks behind, both physically and emotionally. She washed her face. She drank the water. She avoided certain foods. She used the creams. She even tried medication. Still, the acne remained. And now, in her early twenties, it still flares up.
She did everything right.
And that’s something I’ve seen up close—twice now—so I can say it with absolute certainty: it wasn’t anything they did. They bathed. They cleansed. They ate well. Apart from the odd chocolate or treat, they followed every rule that society and skincare routines told them would lead to “perfect skin.”
Meanwhile, my other kids—my boys—didn’t have acne. Sure, they had pimples, like most teenagers. But it passed fairly quickly, give or take a year or two. There were no long-term struggles, no lasting scars, no months of trying new treatments in the hope of relief. It came, it went, and they moved on.
So why did my daughter get it so bad, and the boys didn’t?
We don’t know. And we probably never will.
It could be hormones. It could be genetics. It could be stress, environment, or something we just never identified. It could be everything or nothing. That’s the thing about acne—it’s unpredictable, and it’s not a one-size-fits-all condition.
And yet, despite all this complexity, how quickly do we look at someone and judge?
“Ooh, look at all those pimples. Maybe they should try bathing once in a while.”
“Yoh, she’s eating chocolate with all that acne? She shouldn’t be doing that.”
(Which, yes—chocolate can be a trigger for some. But you don’t know if that’s her first piece in months, do you?)
“Ag shame, that guy didn’t take care of his skin properly. Just look at those scars. Shouldn’t have popped them, hey?”
This is the kind of commentary people with acne hear every day. Some of it’s said out loud. Most of it is silently assumed. And it’s heartbreaking.
Because we reduce people to their appearance, and in doing so, we strip away everything else that makes them human.
And it doesn’t stop with acne. We do the same with people whose lives don’t look like ours. We pass beggars on the side of the road and think, They must have made some bad choices. We walk past the homeless and wonder, Why can’t they just get a job?
But we don’t know their stories. Some may have made choices. Others may have had choices taken from them. And some people really do choose that life—but not all. Not most.
And I’ve seen how quickly life can change. How fast the tables can turn. How easily one unforeseen circumstance—an illness, a job loss, a betrayal, a string of bad luck—can land you in a place you never imagined you’d be.
Never say never.
Because one day, you could find yourself in an ugly place. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. Spiritually. Financially. And in that moment, you wouldn’t want someone to look at your situation and define you by it. You wouldn’t want to be reduced to a snapshot of your worst moment. You would want someone to look beyond the surface, to see the whole of you. To show compassion. To reach out a hand, not point a finger.
It’s so easy to judge.
But would you want the same judgments you dish out, to be turned back on you?
Would you want people to see your worst days and think they represent your entire life? Your worst moment and assume it’s who you are?
What if instead of jumping to conclusions, we paused. What if we chose kindness instead?
So, today, let’s make a conscious decision:
Let’s not look at others through judgmental eyes. Let’s not reduce people to their skin, their circumstances, or their missteps.
Let’s look deeper. Let’s see the beauty that actually matters—the beauty of the heart.
Let’s remember that everyone is fighting battles we can’t see. Some of those battles are on their faces. Some are in their minds. Some are in their homes. And all of them deserve grace.
Let’s build a world where we look past scars, past skin, past surface, and see each other fully.
Because acne is not the enemy. Circumstance is not the enemy.
Judgment is.