The last thing I did before my no-makeup experiment was take a selfie with a full face on. Foundation, concealer, contour, highlight, the works. I looked at that photo for a long time before hitting delete.
I looked beautiful. I also looked nothing like me.
Why I Even Started This
Let me be clear: this isn’t an anti-makeup manifesto. I’m not here to convince you that makeup is bad or that natural is better.
This is about the fact that I genuinely couldn’t remember the last time I’d left my house without foundation.
Twenty-six years old, and I was already teaching my skin to be invisible.
It started innocently enough. A little concealer for dark circles in college. Then foundation for “special occasions.”
Then foundation for work. Then foundation for the grocery store. Then foundation for checking the mail.
By last year, I was doing a full face to take out the trash.
The breaking point wasn’t dramatic. I was running late for coffee with a friend, forgot to do my makeup, and spent the entire hour convinced she was staring at my acne scars.
When I got home and looked in the mirror, I realized something horrifying: I couldn’t remember what my actual face looked like anymore.
The First Week Was Hell
I’m not going to romanticize this. The first week of going makeup-free was one of the hardest things I’ve done.
I cried on day three. Not cute, delicate tears. Full-on sobbing in my car before walking into work, convinced everyone would notice, everyone would judge, everyone would finally see me as the fraud I believed I was.
Spoiler: almost no one noticed.
The few people who did said things like “You look fresh!” or “Did you get more sleep?” Not the horror and pity I’d imagined. The biggest reactions were all happening in my own head.
What I Noticed (The Uncomfortable Stuff)
Week 2: I caught myself apologizing for my face. “Sorry, I’m not wearing makeup today” became my automatic greeting, as if my bare face was an inconvenience I was inflicting on others.
Week 3: I realized how much mental energy I’d been spending on my appearance. Without the daily routine of makeup application, I had an extra 45 minutes every morning. I didn’t know what to do with myself.
Week 4: I went to a party and felt genuinely naked. Everyone else looked polished and put-together. I looked like I’d just rolled out of bed. I left early, went home, and questioned everything.
Week 5: I stopped checking my reflection every time I passed a mirror. Not because I loved what I saw, but because I was too exhausted to care anymore.
The Shift
Something changed around week eight.
I was having lunch with my sister when she said, “Your skin looks really good.” I laughed it off, but she insisted. “No, seriously. It’s glowing.”
I went home and actually looked at my face. Really looked. And she was right.
Without the daily cycle of makeup and harsh makeup removal, my skin was calmer. The redness had faded. My pores looked smaller. Even my acne scars seemed less angry.
But more than that, I looked like… me. Not a better version or a worse version. Just the actual version.
What Changed (Besides My Skin)
I started investing in skincare instead of coverage. The money I would’ve spent on foundation went toward a good vitamin C serum and retinol. I figured if I was going to see my skin every day, I might as well take care of it.
I discovered I have freckles. Actual freckles across my nose that I’d been covering up for years. They’re kind of cute. I’d forgotten they existed.
My morning routine became a ritual instead of a task. Cleanse, serum, moisturize, SPF. Five minutes of actually caring for my skin instead of 45 minutes of hiding it.
I stopped apologizing. Around month four, I noticed I’d stopped prefacing conversations with excuses about my bare face. This one was huge.
I learned to do “enough” makeup. This is important: I didn’t swear off makeup forever. I just learned to use it differently. Now, when I wear it, it’s because I want to, not because I’m afraid not to. Mascara and tinted lip balm for coffee dates. A little eyeshadow for fun. The full face for special occasions when I feel like it.
The Unexpected Side Effect
Here’s what I didn’t expect: going makeup-free changed how I saw other women.
I used to look at influencers and celebrities and friends and think “She’s so naturally beautiful.” Now I can spot the “no-makeup makeup” from a mile away. The concealer, the tinted moisturizer, the lash extensions, the brow lamination, the subtle contour.
There’s nothing wrong with any of that. But I’d been comparing my bare face to everyone else’s made-up face and wondering why I couldn’t measure up. No wonder I felt inadequate.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Six months in, and I still have days where I look in the mirror and don’t love what I see. My skin isn’t perfect. I still have texture, redness, the occasional breakout. My under-eye circles are very much still there.
But now, when I see those things, I see features instead of flaws.
The dark circles are from staying up talking to my best friend. The laugh lines are from actually laughing. The acne scars are proof that my skin has been through things and healed.
I’m not going to tell you that I “learned to love myself” or that I’m “finally confident.” That feels dishonest. Some days I still want to hide. Some days I still feel exposed.
But I’ve learned something more valuable than confidence: I’ve learned that my face doesn’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being seen.
What Happens Now
I’m still not wearing makeup most days. When I do, it’s playful. Experimental. Fun. A purple eyeliner here. A bold lip there. Glitter for no reason.
Makeup stopped being armor and started being art.
My skin still isn’t what magazines would call flawless. But it’s mine. And after 26 years of treating it like something that needed to be fixed, I’m finally just letting it exist.
If You’re Considering This
You don’t need to stop wearing makeup for six months. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But if you, like me, have forgotten what your actual face looks like, if you can’t leave the house without foundation, if you’re afraid people will see the “real you” and be disappointed—maybe try one day.
Just one day of showing up as you are.
You might surprise yourself.
