What Actually Helped My Perioral Dermatitis (After Steroids Made It Infinitely Worse)

If you're reading this at 1am with your phone flashlight up to your face in the bathroom mirror, trying to figure out if those angry little bumps around your mouth and nose are acne, an allergic reaction, or something else entirely — I see you. I've been exactly where you are, and I'm going to tell you everything I wish someone had told me back then.

Perioral dermatitis often worsens with topical steroids, and tends to respond better to removing irritants (makeup, heavy occlusives) while supporting the skin barrier with calming ingredients like centella asiatica and astragalus.

Okay so, the short version

Twelve. I was twelve years old the first time a dermatologist looked at my face and had an actual name for what was happening to it. I bring that up because most people assume this whole thing started with COVID masks, and I get why — that's when it got loud again, like screaming-red-angry-bloody loud — but the truth is perioral dermatitis and I go way further back than that. On and off since middle school. COVID didn't introduce us. It just found the pilot light still going and dumped a can of gasoline on it.

That first derm visit went the way these visits so often go when you're a scared kid who just wants it gone: she handed me a steroid cream like it was going to fix everything. It is not a magic wand. It's more like hitting snooze on an alarm that's secretly charging you interest — it calmed things down just long enough for me to trust it, and then it came back and it came back mad. Infinitely worse, honestly. That was maybe my first real lesson in all of this, and it took me actual years to unlearn: quieting a symptom is not the same thing as listening to what's underneath it.

What it actually looked like, because I think this part matters

Fast forward to mask years and my nose and mouth basically became a war zone. Red, burning, itchy, these little oily bumps that would crust over and sometimes bleed. Not cute. Not "oh it's just some breakouts." A different beast entirely, and I don't think people who haven't had it really get that.

Makeup should have been my ally here — and honestly, it did help, for my confidence, for feeling like a person when I left the house. But because the bumps themselves were oily, makeup wouldn't sit right on them, it would just slide, which meant reapplying all day, which meant more bacteria, more friction, more spreading. So there's this loop, right, where you cover it up to feel okay and the covering up is literally what's making it angrier. I have to imagine a lot of you know that loop by heart.

What actually helped — and I wish I could just hand you one thing

I really wish I could tell you "here, use this, you're done." That would be so much simpler. But healing this wasn't a switch, it was more like slowly turning down a dozen tiny dials at the same time and hoping they added up to something.

I went makeup-free, which was genuinely hard on my confidence but broke that reapplication-bacteria loop. I started washing my face after brushing my teeth instead of before, because — think about it — toothpaste residue, drool, all of that is hanging out near your mouth all night doing bacteria things you'd rather not picture. I started washing my pillowcase a lot more often, because your face is pressed into that fabric for seven-plus hours a night, basically marinating in whatever's already living there. And I cleaned up the foods that were setting my body off — I'm not anaphylactic to anything, but I clearly run high-histamine with certain things, and pulling those back calmed my skin from the inside, not just whatever I was slathering on the outside.

Stack all of that together and within a week or two I'd see real improvement. Fully gone by three or four weeks.

And then — this is the part that actually built Yung

Around this same stretch of time I was elbow-deep in formulating what eventually became Hero, just kind of playing around with two ingredients, centella (tiger grass) and astragalus, almost as a side experiment. And they ended up being the two things that moved the needle for me more than anything else I'd tried, before or since.

But here's the thing — I wasn't just looking for "something that won't make my dermatitis worse." Because that's the maddening part of having reactive skin: almost everything I put on my face made it angrier. Best case it did nothing. Worst case, and honestly most common case, it did something and that something was bad. So somewhere in there I got a little greedy with my own wish list. I'm also a sun lizard, I always have been, I love being outside more than is probably wise for my skin, and by my late thirties that love affair had left me with sunspots and fine lines on top of a face that already couldn't handle half of what's sold as anti-aging. I didn't want five different products fighting each other on my shelf. I wanted one cream that could calm the dermatitis, support my barrier, fade the sun damage, and let me actually age the way I want to age, all without setting off a flare. That impossible little wish list is the entire reason Hero ended up being an all-in-one. It was never a marketing decision. It came out of needing something that specific, because anything less specific just kept hurting me.

Honestly, because you don't need any more fluff — this isn't a "cured forever, never think about it again" story. If I get lazy, skip the habits, skip the cream for too long, it can absolutely creep back. Staying clear for me means staying consistent. Not graduating from it. Just tending to it, over and over, probably for the rest of my life.

Why I think any of this actually worked

If I had to guess at the mechanism here — and I want to be clear, I'm speaking from my own years of trial and error, not a lab coat — perioral dermatitis seems to respond less to "add more stuff" and more to "take away what's aggravating it, then support the barrier gently." Heavy, occlusive, steroid-heavy products can quiet things down in the short term while quietly feeding the whole cycle in the long term. Going the opposite direction — fewer products, cleaner habits, ingredients built to calm rather than mask — is what turned it around for me. Honestly that's the whole soul of skinimalism as a philosophy, not just for Yung but for how I try to live: one intentional thing instead of ten irritants stacked on top of each other, hoping something sticks.

(Quick honest note: this is my personal experience, not medical advice. Perioral dermatitis is a real, diagnosable condition and everyone's triggers are different. If you're in a flare, it's worth talking to a dermatologist about your specific case — especially before changing course on anything already prescribed.)

Turns out I'm not the only one

One of our customers reached out after trying Hero and told me she'd lived a version of this same story — dermatologist visits, creams recommended to her that ran close to $1,000, and not much real relief to show for any of it. After switching to Hero, her dermatitis cleared, at a fraction of what she'd already spent chasing an answer. I'm not going to pretend that story didn't get me a little emotional. It's proof this was never just my skin being weird. It's a pattern, and it affirms something is working here.

If you're in the thick of it right now

A few gentle, non-medical things, worth trying alongside whatever your dermatologist recommends:

• Give your skin a break from makeup where you can, even if it's just around the house - ideally though, go without fully. You might feel insecure at first, but trust me, your confidence will skyrocket well beyond healing this flare.
• Wash your face after brushing your teeth, not before
• Change your pillowcase more often than feels necessary
• Notice whether certain foods seem to show up right before a flare
• Look for centella and astragalus in whatever you're using — they were the two ingredients that changed everything for me

You are not broken, and this is not forever. It took me weeks, not years, once I stopped throwing more at it and started actually listening to what my skin was asking for.

— Kate

Common Questions About Perioral Dermatitis

Does perioral dermatitis go away on its own?

It can come and go in cycles, but for most people it doesn't fully resolve without changing something — usually cutting out whatever's irritating the skin (heavy products, certain steroids, some makeup, foods, stress etc.) and giving the skin barrier real support in the meantime.

Can steroid cream make perioral dermatitis worse?

Yes, this is one of the most common patterns. Topical steroids can calm the rash temporarily, but they often make perioral dermatitis worse over time or trigger a stronger flare once you stop using them. Many dermatologists now advise against steroids as a first response for this exact reason.

What triggers perioral dermatitis?

Common triggers include heavy or occlusive skincare and makeup, fluorinated toothpaste, certain steroid creams, hormonal changes, and for some people, high-histamine foods, all of which can be exacerbated by stress. Triggers vary person to person, so it often takes some trial and error to identify your own.

What ingredients help perioral dermatitis?

Calming, barrier-supportive ingredients tend to help more than aggressive actives. Centella asiatica (tiger grass) and astragalus are two ingredients known for soothing inflammation and supporting skin barrier repair without clogging or aggravating reactive skin.

How long does it take for perioral dermatitis to clear up?

It varies, but with consistent changes (removing irritants, simplifying the routine, supporting the barrier), many people see improvement within 1-2 weeks and significant clearing within 3-4 weeks. It can return if habits lapse, so ongoing consistency matters more than a one-time fix.

Is perioral dermatitis the same as acne?

No. Perioral dermatitis looks similar to acne — small red or oily bumps around the mouth and nose — but it's a distinct inflammatory skin condition, not clogged pores. If you try and pop it, clear fluid leaks out and your skin burns. Treating it like acne (with harsh acne products) often makes it worse.