Beam Me Up

Bethany Heitman's self-esteem was tied to her clear skin, so dark spots sent her spiraling. Then she saw the light.

- Bethany Heitman

"She has such a pretty face; if only she would lose weight," I overheard a relative say when I was 12. "You're pretty-you're just physically not my type," a high school crush said, stopping short of saying he was into girls who wore a size 4, not a 14. When you live in a larger body, the go-to compliment about your looks almost always involves a version of "You have such a pretty face." The unsaid part: You're too fat to really be attractive.

And while these double-edged compliments torpedoed my body confidence, they made me feel great about my face. My near-perfect skin felt like a worthy consolation prize for the thick thighs and belly rolls. While all my high school friends were worshiping at the altar of Noxzema, I was basking in the glory of nonexistent teenage acne. In my 20s, my friends embraced the bandage-dress trend in a way I never had the guts to-but I never had to blow my entry-level salary on pricey foundation.