I began wearing makeup when I was 11 years old. I fell into watching YouTubers with drawers full of expensive makeup transform their bare face into something entirely different. I went to a Catholic middle school where makeup wasn’t allowed, but I still wore it. I practiced a “natural” makeup look, where I was wearing just enough to make my appearance different. My parents saw my makeup use as a hobby, not as something that could potentially harm my self-esteem in the future. I don’t blame them for that, though I saw my use of makeup as something necessary to make me feel validated as a female. Looking back at my 11-year-old self, I wish I could tell her that she’s beautiful and doesn’t need makeup to fit in.

Similar to myself, Emerson students Mary Callanan ‘24 and Amanda Winters ‘24 both started wearing makeup at a fairly young age; Callanan beginning to wear makeup at age 12 and Winters at age 13. We all went to private schools growing up where makeup was not allowed, but we still found a way to wear it discreetly. We all were encouraged to start wearing makeup by the influence of social media highlighting certain unachievable feminine features and establishing unrealistic expectations regarding beauty.

“I grew up in a very predominantly white town and I just didn’t really look like anybody, and I wanted to look more like people having bigger eyelashes, fuller eyebrows. I didn’t like some of my features and I wanted to change that. If you ask a lot of non-white girls that grew up in predominantly whiter areas, they will most likely say the same thing. You have more of a desire to fit in—that’s what got me wanting to wear makeup,” says Winters.

Eurocentric beauty standards have been pushed by society as the pinnacle of beauty. In Winters’ journey with makeup, she noticed there was no diversity in YouTube tutorials or makeup companies, as many of these videos or products were aimed for white users. She noticed that the makeup techniques she had been practicing did not fit her own features. “Makeup has somewhat helped me understand that I don’t fit this mold. I think that actually bothered me in the beginning, but now I kind of just accepted it and can appreciate my features,” says Winters.

When I began using makeup, I wanted to look like someone I wasn’t. I had a desire to look older and to possess more feminine qualities. I began creating a makeup routine that I practiced and perfected daily. I started with a little eyeshadow and mascara. Then, I felt that I needed to cover my skin in addition to emphasizing my eye look, so I added concealer and foundation. Eventually I was covering almost every part of my face. Practicing this makeup routine at such a formative and impressionable age clouded my judgment of my own worth. I only felt normal when I had a full face of makeup on. The reflection of my bare face in the mirror was a stranger who I couldn’t recognize and couldn’t fully love.

Callanan noticed a struggle with achieving beauty standards while maintaining skin care in her makeup experience. This cycle consisted of using makeup to emulate flawless skin, the makeup then causing acne, blemishes and discoloration, and then using makeup to cover any acne or redness—instead of properly caring for our own skin.

“My acne got worse and worse, and then I felt even more like I couldn’t go out without makeup because I had to cover the acne,” says Callanan.

This issue seems to be common among girls who began wearing makeup at a young age. During my freshman year of college, my skin was in its worst condition ever, and I knew I needed to make a change. I noticed people who wore little to no makeup had clear skin and I envied them, but I also realized that they had healthy skin due to the fact that they did not overuse makeup as I had.

I faced one of my biggest fears and tried to go certain days without wearing a full face of makeup to heal the years of damage that makeup had on both my skin and my self-image. This was something that frightened me, but I felt it was necessary and I began recognizing my face and the beauty that I possess without makeup.

I Don't Know My Face