When I was seven, I started noticing small white spots appearing on my body, and by the time I was 11, they were everywhere. They were symmetrical, the same on both sides.
I later discovered that I had vitiligo, a rare autoimmune skin condition characterized by the formation of these light patches on the skin. They occur due to the loss of melanin, the cells responsible for skin color. While vitiligo can affect any part of the body, most people, including me, experience it on the face, neck, hands, arms and legs.
This condition makes the affected areas sensitive to sunlight, so I had to take vitamin B shots, supplements, folic acid, and have my thyroid checked every year. It affects around one per cent of the world’s population and one in 100 people in the UK.
The number of people with vitiligo has been increasing in the last decade. The most notable of these are Amy Deanna, the first model with vitiligo featured by CoverGirl cosmetics, and Winnie Harlow, the first fitness model to walk for Victoria’s Secret. The Canadian actress first gained attention when she opened up about her condition in Instagram posts in 2014, and has remained open about it ever since.
In a powerful post, she wrote: “My skin has changed so much in the last 6 years.. it’s incredible. The evolution of Vitiligo is beautiful. Don’t be ashamed of the things that make you different. My skin is constantly changing, I am constantly relearning how to do my makeup according to the times. Skin is just skin. We should not judge this by situation or race. Like our minds and souls, my skin is constantly evolving. [sic]
There is no definitive information about what causes vitiligo, but research suggests it may be genetic. In my case, a generation was skipped even though I have second and third cousins with vitiligo. While there are treatments available such as topical steroids or phototherapy that may slow the progression of vitiligo or allow melanocytes to return, there is no permanent cure.
Throughout my childhood, I wore makeup to cover up my vitiligo. Even though it didn’t prevent me from doing anything at school, I was constantly conscious of touching my face during sports activities. I was confident, I was never bullied or made fun of, but I struggled with a deep inner conflict that wouldn’t allow me to accept seeing without makeup.
I was confident at school, I was never bullied or made fun of, but I struggled with a deep inner conflict that wouldn’t allow me to accept being seen without makeup.
I grew up in a Turkish Cypriot family and my family knew very little about this situation. They were quite narrow-minded and loyal to their own cultural environment. Instead of treating vitiligo as a medical condition, they approached it as a cosmetic problem. I was apprehensive about coming out to them because I had the feeling that this was a problem that needed to be masked.
As a child, I believed that applying makeup to my face every day was normal and the right way to deal with it. My mother tried various treatments to help. From making me drink tree root mixtures to using various topical steroids. But none of these treatments really had an effect. When he was 14, he used an acid-containing ointment recommended to him by a Turkish doctor, which shocked us. I reacted badly and ended up in A&E.
Until eight years ago, my daily make-up regimen as an adult continued; I would wake up in the morning, shower, and apply it before going to work. But I stopped wearing it just a few weeks before I married my wife, Amy, in 2016. We were going to hold the ceremony in Jamaica, where Amy and I had been before when I was 21. I remembered how hard I tried to protect my makeup in the heat.
When we decided to get married there and remembering the experience of being hot and bothered, I realized; I didn’t want this on my wedding day. Still, I was conflicted. On that special day, I had an emotional internal battle over whether I should wear make-up or show my authentic self bravely. For years, I believed that if I didn’t wear makeup, I wouldn’t feel my best, most attractive, or beautiful. This is why I kept my vitiligo covered for so long until I met Amy.
In a way, I feel like you saved me. She instilled in me a sense of self that my parents never had and reassured me that vitiligo did not diminish my beauty.
Vitiligo was perceived differently 20 years ago, and although it is now an element of acceptance, I believe it is still underrepresented. Not just in vitiligo, but all skin disorders among celebrities and in wider society.
I’ve been raising awareness at work through an initiative called London Voices and the response has been overwhelming. I believe everyone has their own insecurities and vitiligo is mine, but I want people to understand that talking about it helps.
I am the parent of two boys who I know will be curious about my skin. I want to be able to share my experiences with them and help them understand that this is not a bad thing.