You are not your skin. You are not your body. You are a soul. You are a cell in the body of the Divine. You are a magnificent product of Divine Creation. You are a moment of inspiration made manifest in a human body.

I had to learn the hard way that treating the skin like an A-bomb drop zone is completely counterproductive. And through my healing journey, I've discovered something miraculous: that moisturizers can heal in unimaginable ways.

For most of us, the most common and unfortunate side effect of skin problems is isolation. We don't want to be seen the way we look. You can hide a lot of physical flaws, but not acne. It's right there, on the first thing people notice about us - our face. And it's hard for some of us to imagine that people can see the face - the PERSON - behind the acne.

Our culture is obsessed with perfection, especially when it comes to the way women look. The parameters of acceptability as far as physical appearance go are so limiting that only a handful of women actually fall into this category. And the rest of us are left to either squeeze ourselves into molds that don't fit, hating ourselves all the while, or we just give up entirely.

In this culture, cultivating unconditional self-acceptance truly is radical.

As they climbed into the wagon, the widows thanked her again, and reminded her to be careful out there. There was danger in the woods, especially for a woman on her own. Fairies, demons, and shapeshifters who might take advantage of an unguarded lady.

The fox didn’t move, didn’t even seem to be breathing as the woman’s trembling fingers touched its red pelt, just between its ears. It closed its eyes as her hand moved over the back of its head.

At midmorning the next day, she stood out by the line, hanging the laundry up to dry. But when she reached into the basket for the last item, a worn, moss-green shirt, she found it empty. Looking up, she saw the little fox holding the shirt in its mouth. It leapt, dropping the shirt, then picked it up again.

Once upon a time, there was a woman who lived in a cottage at the edge of the woods. She was neither young nor old, neither pretty nor unattractive. As such, people from the village didn’t take much notice of her. Nor did she take much notice of them. She spent her days foraging for roots and mushrooms in the forest, simmering broths in the cauldron at her hearth, and spinning wool into long strings that would be woven into shawls and mittens.

Don't rely on labels to give you the information you need. Trust only the ingredient list and your gut.