CAN MY SKIN
hear my group chat?
By Nina – 23, glow-chaser
It started with a selfie. Not mine — hers. You know, that friend. The one with the perfect winged liner on a boat in Capri while your T-zone is actively melting off in front of your laptop. I stared at the pic for a solid three seconds, then at my reflection: dull, slightly puffy, and suspiciously textured. “Why does my skin look like it’s in a fight with me?” I whispered, knowing full well it couldn’t answer — but it felt like it wanted to. Because here’s the thing: I swear my skin knows when I’m feeling left out. Like it can smell the envy through my phone. My group chat has been poppin’ with summer flings, brunches, festivals, and new glowy routines. Meanwhile, I’m over here breaking out like it’s finals week, even though my only major life stress is deciding between oat milk or almond.
Mirror, mirror on the group thread
Scrolling through stories, I noticed something: my skin gets worse when I compare. It’s not even theproducts — it’s the pressure. The invisible weight of trying to keep up. I started layering on serums Ididn’t need, trying hacks I saw once at midnight, and skipping sleep in the name of glow-up research.Plot twist? My skin hated me for it. I was in a toxic relationship… with my own routine.
The filter fatigue is real
Let’s be honest: group chats are a minefield of unsolicited skincare advice. “Try this toner.” “I swear by this retinol.”“Have you not been slugging?” I tried it all, and I ended up with a compromised barrier and zero serotonin. My skin wasn’t lacking product — it was lacking peace. I didn’t need another trend. I needed a truce.
What actually helped? Logging off — and icing down.
I took a pause. Put my phone on Do Not Disturb and my Cooling Jellies in the fridge. A cleanser that didn’t strip me of joy. A gel cream that made my face feel like a spa cucumber. I rebuilt my routine based on what my skin asked for — not what my friends were bragging about.
And guess what? My glow came back. Quietly. Gently. With zero hashtags involved.
Moral of the story?
Your group chat doesn’t live in your pores. Your skin doesn’t care who’s on vacation. And sometimes, the only filter you need is a cold rinse and a little less comparison.
Let your skin be yours — not a group project.