Living With Keloid Scars: My Experience
Living with keloid scars can be exhausting.
Not just physically, but mentally. Healing is slow, unpredictable, and often invisible for long stretches of time. Early on, I assumed scars followed a clear timeline — that if I did the “right” things, they would fade and move on like other injuries I’d had before.
That hasn’t been my experience with keloids.
How it started
Most of my keloids formed as a result of acne, particularly on my chest and back. These weren’t small surface pimples. They tended to form deep below the skin, becoming sore, swollen, and slow to heal.
At the time, I didn’t even know what keloids were. I treated these spots the same way I’d treated acne elsewhere on my body, assuming they would resolve without leaving much behind.
They didn’t.
Over time, raised scars formed — thicker, firmer, and far more persistent than anything I’d dealt with before.
What surprised me most
One of the hardest parts wasn’t just the scars themselves, but how unpredictable they were.
Some wounds healed normally. Others didn’t. Sometimes a small spot would turn into a long-term scar, while something more noticeable would fade without issue. There was no clear rulebook.
I also underestimated how much skin tension played a role. Areas like the chest and back are under constant movement and stretch, and I’ve come to believe that this made a real difference for me. Exercise, posture, even carrying bags across the shoulders seemed to add up over time.
The mental side of it
There are nights where I’m doing my skincare routine before bed and I catch myself imagining what it would be like to wake up with no keloids at all — like they just disappeared overnight.
That never happens.
New keloids can still form, and when they do, it can feel devastating, even after years of dealing with them. What I’ve learned is that coping with keloids isn’t just about treatment. It’s also about expectations.
To avoid constant disappointment, I try to be realistic. I don’t expect visible improvement in weeks. I usually tell myself I won’t see meaningful changes for at least three months, and that real healing can take anywhere from six to twelve months.
That mindset has helped more than I expected.
What’s helped (so far)
Nothing has been a miracle cure.
Some treatments have helped reduce redness or thickness over time. Others made little difference. A few worked for certain scars but not others. Progress has been slow and uneven, but small improvements do add up.
One thing that’s made a difference is having an “arsenal” of tools — routines and treatments I know my body tends to respond to. When a new wound or breakout appears, having a plan makes it feel slightly less overwhelming.
It doesn’t guarantee a good outcome, but it gives me a sense of control.
Where I am now
I don’t consider my journey finished, and I don’t think there’s a clear endpoint with keloids.
Some scars have improved. Others are largely unchanged. Mentally, I’m in a better place than I was early on, mostly because I’ve stopped expecting quick results and started focusing on consistency and patience.
This site exists to document that process honestly — what helps, what doesn’t, and what living with keloids actually feels like over the long term.
A quick note
I’m not a medical professional. Nothing I share here is medical advice. This is simply my personal experience, shaped by trial, error, research, and time. If you’re dealing with keloid scars, I strongly recommend speaking with a qualified healthcare professional about your own situation.
If you’re here because you’re dealing with keloids too, I hope this makes the process feel a little less isolating. Healing is slow, but you’re not alone in it.
Want to read more?
I also wrote about the mental fatigue of living with keloid scars, which has been one of the hardest parts for me. Read the blog post here.👈