Last year, my 15-year-old Jake stopped wanting to be in photos. He'd been a confident, outgoing kid his whole life — always the first to jump into the surf, always mucking around with his mates. But somewhere in the middle of Year 10, he started pulling his hoodie up at the dinner table, angling his face away from me when I spoke to him, and making excuses not to go out.
It took me a few weeks to realise what had changed. His acne had gotten bad. Really bad. And it wasn't just spots — it was the deep, angry, painful kind that sits under the skin and doesn't budge no matter what you put on it.
I did what any mum does. I went to the chemist. Then the GP. Then another chemist. We tried every wash, every gel, every product with "proven acne-fighting formula" on the label. Some of it seemed to help for a week, then nothing. Some of it made his skin so dry and red it looked worse than the acne itself. After eight months of this, I was starting to wonder if we'd just have to wait it out, or go down the Accutane path — which, honestly, terrified me.
Then someone in a Facebook group mentioned something that changed everything for me: teenage boys' skin is actually fundamentally different to female skin. And most of the acne products on pharmacy shelves? They're not designed with that in mind at all.