(May, 1999)

Seeing Another Flaker Makes Warm Feeling
from Martha T.

Hello again! Just checking in to say hi, and thank God for sunshine! Here in the Pacific Northwest we've had some short (24-48 hours) bursts of fabulous weather, and I am amazed at how quickly my P responds.

As I was reading through this month's mail, and also catching up in the archives, I found some were pondering "where are all those other flakers that I know are out there?" Also, I was re-reading a poignant email from the 30 year-old who had secluded himself for 15 years, that he had found new love.

You know, even though I accept and love my scaly body, I've always wondered (this is embarrassing to admit) if I could be attracted to someone who had P? (Ay yai yai, now you all know what a traitor I am!) Well, the other day I was at the supermarket, and I rounded the corner of the produce section and almost bumped into a guy who I could swear had P on his face. I just have a few patches on my face, but he had it over 40 percent of his. And you know what? One, he looked just like a normal person, who happens to have P. We caught eyes and smiled just like normal people who are checking each other out. Two, I felt instantly so warm towards him! Like I wanted to stop and hug him and say, "Solidarity, Comrade!" and pull up the legs of my jeans to show him my worst areas. I was just so happy to see him walking confidently around the store. But of course I wasn't sure whether he was extra sensitive about it or not, so politeness decreed that I stay mute.

Anyway Ed, I just wanted to say you are an angel and you make me laugh so much! Thank you so much for creating this hub of psoriatic love and laughter. Happy spring! -Martha T.


Ed's Response: Good to hear from you, Martha. I imagine what you felt running into the flaking stranger in the store. I keep waiting for the occasion.

Back in my college days, years and years before my P manifested, my vitiligo was my worst "skin complaint." In the summer, especially, when the rest of me would tan, the pigment less white patches disturbed me and some people around me. I remember spying a girl seated a table or two away from me in the student lounge who had vitiligo at least as bad as me. We did the eye thing, too. I had another problem, though. Vitiligo aside, she was extremely attractive. I felt that comradely warmth like you did, but it wasn't ALL that I felt. Shyness is my excuse for not having taken that encounter further.

Have a good northwestern summer, Martha! -Ed

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