That persistent bumpiness on my upper arms
I have had these little bumps on the back of my arms for as long as I can remember. People call it ‘chicken skin’ or follicular keratosis, and honestly, it is the most annoying thing when the weather gets warm. I spent so much of my early twenties trying to scrub them away with those rough exfoliating mitts I bought at Olive Young, thinking that if I just kept at it, they would eventually smooth out. Spoiler alert: they just got red and irritated instead. It is strange how something so minor can be such a persistent point of insecurity, especially when you want to wear a sleeveless top in the summer without feeling self-conscious about the texture of your skin.
The endless cycle of trying random products
I think I have tried just about every lotion that promised ‘smooth skin’ at the back of the bottle. I remember buying this one urea-based cream that cost around 25,000 won; it felt heavy and took forever to absorb into my skin. It worked okay for a week, but the moment I stopped using it, the roughness came back exactly as it was. It felt like I was just putting a temporary bandage on a problem that was buried much deeper in my pores. I also tried those chemical exfoliant toners, but they mostly just made my skin feel sensitive and dry. It is funny how I kept buying these things hoping for a miracle, even though deep down I knew the bumps would just return once the product ran out.
Visiting a clinic in Gangnam
Last year, I finally gave in and went to a dermatology clinic in Gangnam. I was tired of guessing what might work. The consultation was fast—honestly, it felt like they were just trying to get me to commit to a package deal right away. The doctor took a look at my arms for about ten seconds and mentioned a series of laser treatments, though they did not guarantee that the ‘chicken skin’ would disappear forever. The cost was somewhere around 400,000 won for a five-session series. I looked at the brochures, felt the pressure of the waiting room, and just couldn’t bring myself to pay that much for something that felt like a cosmetic vanity. I ended up just buying a basic moisturizer they recommended and left feeling a bit foolish.
Coming to terms with my own skin
Looking at my arms now, they still look pretty much the same as they did five years ago. There is still that visible pattern of tiny bumps, and sometimes, if I am stressed or haven’t been drinking enough water, they seem to stand out even more. I stopped trying to force my skin to be perfectly smooth. I still use a gentle lotion every night, and sometimes I use an exfoliating body wash, but I no longer expect a transformation. It is just part of how my skin is built, I guess. I still wonder if I should have just done those laser treatments to see what would happen, but the uncertainty of whether it would have actually worked is enough to keep me from going back to that clinic.
A lingering sense of frustration
Even after all this time, I still find myself reflexively touching the back of my arms. It is a weird habit. I know it does not matter to anyone else as much as it matters to me, but that does not make the texture feel any less annoying. I suppose some people just have skin that wants to hold onto those little plugs of keratin, and there is no magic switch to flip it off. I am currently just using a very basic, thick cream I found at the pharmacy for 15,000 won. It does not cure anything, but it keeps the irritation down, which is probably the most I can hope for at this point. I still catch myself looking at other people’s arms, hoping to see the same thing just to feel less alone about it.
I completely understand that feeling of investing in something and still being left with the same issue. The urea cream’s temporary effect really highlights how frustrating those kinds of products can be – it’s almost like a short-term distraction rather than a real solution.