I have a very particular morning routine. I awake and head to the bathroom to relieve my full bladder, rid my mouth of my terrible morning breath, and clean the sorrows of my dreams with fresh, warm water. I was unfortunately graced with bad eye sight, a trait from my mother. Most days, my left pointer finger touches each eyeball twice a day. But some days, I choose my glasses, which allows me to take my eye sight away quickly and decompress from the day. But honestly, the days I choose my glasses are the ones where I know I am able to nap during the day.

After the bathroom sequence, I start my very calculated skincare routine. Skincare is my favorite part. I used to not understand why, because I never had bad skin and I’m not afraid of aging. But it’s a small part of my day that I take care of myself and it doesn’t feel like a chore. The lineup is cleanse and/or exfoliate (exfoliate is only twice a week, you don’t want to make your skin too dry), toner, serum, moisturizing gel, sunscreen.

As an adult and in therapy, I have discovered the reality of my parents not giving me what I needed when I was a child. My mother almost never hugged or touched me. I wasn’t comforted in the way that I wished I was. One of the few times that my mom did touch me was during the summer and required sunscreen. She wanted us to be protected, as we all had fair skin and skin cancer runs through our family like the plague. I remember the smell of the sunscreen. Sunscreen reminds me of the love my mom had for me and my siblings. Because she didn’t always touch me, this was so significant to me. The sunscreen that I put on my face every morning has a tinge of that smell.

Touching my own face with all of my products reminds me of the small amount of times my mother did provide me with a loving touch. The sunscreen provides me with good nostalgia. I have many bad nostalgic memories. But this is one of the good ones. It’s a good start to my morning, a start with a smile, and a start to another, possibly hard, day that I know will end up okay.