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A Few Hours in the Sun Will Turn Me Into a Cow
Living with vitiligo
Up until my 26th year on this planet, I was sure that this cup had passed from me. Finally, some of the many genetic defects that my parents had not passed on to me.
Or so I thought.
My father has been suffering from vitiligo ever since I can remember. I have never seen him (even slightly) tanned. He has always been completely white. Almost an albino-like white. I have seen some photos of my father in his twenties — with dark brown, almost black hair, and dark brown skin. He is clearly German (at least that’s what I’m told), but he could have been mistaken for a Middle Eastern man back then. He used to be one handsome man.
Then slowly but surely his immune system turned against him. It started with pale white patches on his face, and gradually affected his entire body. He turned completely white within a matter of years. There was (and still is) no melanin left that would pigment his skin.
I had always thought to myself how awful it would be to develop that condition.
It was on a sunny day in Cancún, Mexico when it dawned on me that I, too, might be affected by vitiligo.
When I looked in the mirror before going to bed I noticed that my face was not tanned as evenly as it used to…
