The First Time I Felt Alone — My Vitiligo Story, Part 1

My Vitiligo Story — Part 1

I don’t remember exactly when I first noticed I had vitiligo.

The first white patches appeared on my chest, my forehead, and my genitals.

At first, I thought it was something caused by the sun. Just some strange reaction to being outside.

But then I started thinking.

I hadn’t exactly been sunbathing naked.

So something wasn’t right.

I was around 26 or 27 years old at the time. I knew absolutely nothing about vitiligo. Not even the name.

And back then, finding information wasn’t as simple as typing a question into Google. I had to figure things out on my own.

But where was I supposed to start?

Eventually, when the patches refused to disappear, I went to see a dermatologist.

He looked at my forehead. Then at my chest.

And just like that, without much emotion, he said:

“It’s vitiligo.”

I asked him what kind of treatment was available.

He said:

“There is no treatment.”

That was it.

He sent me for some blood tests.

And I went out drinking.

Not to celebrate, obviously.

I just wanted to forget what I’d heard.

I couldn’t believe it. How could something happen to my body and nobody know how to fix it?

It was a shock.

And for the first time in my life, I felt truly alone.

Not because I didn’t have people around me.

I had family. Friends. Girlfriends. People who loved me.

But none of them could help.

Not my parents.

Not my friends.

Not the doctors.

Nobody.

There is a strange kind of loneliness that comes when you realize the people who love you can’t save you from something.

It took me a while to understand something that would eventually change the way I looked at my life.

Maybe I was the only person who could really help myself.

But I wasn’t ready to understand that yet.

Not back then.

You are the only solution to your own problems.

End of Part 1.
See you next week.

— Sebastian

Vitiguru | Real Stories. Real Skin. Real Life.