The pixie-like Cyndi Lauper, whose 1983 hit song “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” became a global anthem and encouraged women of all ages to follow its advice, has a certain allure.
Lauper epitomizes style. Her message of self-empowerment stems from her colorful hair, unique fashion, and funny, carefree personality.
But the performer is really dealing with a serious skin ailment called psoriasis, which at one point was so aggressive that “it looked like someone threw boiling water on me.” This is hidden behind the comical voice that makes her listeners feel happy.
The 69-year-old pop icon recently talked about how she has been fighting psoriasis, an incurable chronic skin ailment, since her diagnosis in 2010.
The symptoms of psoriasis might include scaly patches, extreme pain, itching, and discomfort. The skin condition affects an estimated 125 million people globally and 8 million people in the United States.
When Lauper first started experiencing symptoms, such as general pain and scalp irritations, these got worse with time.
The celebrated performer experienced both physical and mental distress as a result of the outbursts, which she initially blamed to her frequent hair dyeing.
The singer of “Time after Time” is an activist, a touring music sensation, and a busy mother.
As an advocate for human rights, motivated by her lesbian sister Ellen, Lauper dedicates her life to helping the LGBT community.
“Above the Clouds,” a song she wrote in 2005, was dedicated to Matthew Shepard, a gay student who was killed by beating in Wyoming in 2005. Additionally, she started the “True Colors” concert tour in 2007–2008, which raises money for LGBT foundations and charities in the community and beyond.
Apart from her advocacy work, Lauper has a strong background as an actor, singer, and songwriter. Over the course of her four-decade career, Lauper won multiple accolades, including the Tony Award, two Grammy Awards, an MTV Music Video Award, and an Emmy Award for her 1995 cameo in a Mad About You episode.
In 2013, she was invited as a special guest to U.S. President Barrack Obama’s second inauguration for her humanitarian endeavors. She also has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and is inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
Despite her illness, Lauper is a true force to be reckoned with. The True Colors singer is learning how to control her stress, which can cause a flare-up, in order to prevent her psoriasis from taking control of her life.
She composed the music and lyrics for the Broadway hit musical Kinky Boots, which won her a Tony Award for Best Original Score, while suffering from severe attacks of psoriasis at the time of her diagnosis. Lauper is the first female Tony winner in that particular category. Five further Tony Awards were won by the production, including Best New Musical.
In an effort to assist others, Lauper shares her honest story of living with an autoimmune skin disorder in an interview with the American Academy of Dermatology (AAD).
“I’ve never been very good at handling stress.” She continued, saying that she has healed and reduced stress both at home and while traveling using a holistic approach. She researched reiki, a Japanese method of relaxation and stress relief, and stated, “That helps me.”
Apart from reiki, Lauper deliberately tries to maintain her groundedness through yoga, meditation, and outdoor walks with her dog and/or husband, David Thornton, whom she wed in 1991. Born in 1997, the couple has one son.
“Taking care of oneself is not a bad thing,” Lauper declared, urging others to “make a little time for you every day.”
You can begin modestly. She went on, “How about five minutes for you?”
Resiliently, Lauper states that “it’s really hard to get up again when psoriasis gets really bad.” She occasionally had chills due to an inability to control her body temperature, which can result in hypothermia. Even when she rested, the pain persisted, and the discomfort was exacerbated by others who downplayed the severity of the issue by stating that it was merely a rash.
You don’t have to go through pain, Lauper stated. Psoriasis can be treated with topical, oral, or injectable medications to decrease its often-intense effects. Lauper claims to be “four years clear” after using Novartis’ Cosentyx, which provided her great relief.
In 2017, Lauper discussed her psoriasis management with HealthDay.
It’s strange how you start wearing gloves or other items in the hopes that your psoriasis won’t show, but it doesn’t. I didn’t wear it with a sense of excitement or admiration. Everyone hides it, don’t they? The number of people who have it but keep it a secret could surprise you. It’s a topic worth discussing because it’s one of those things that is somewhat invisible.
She discusses it on her podcast, PsO in the Know, where she interviews psoriasis sufferers, advocates, and celebrities who share their experiences with the disease.
Currently in its third season, the show may be downloaded from Stitcher, Pandora, Google Podcasts, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and Pandora.
Not all celebrities, including Lauper, have psoriasis. Kim Kardashian, 42, was given a diagnosis at the age of 30, and she is candid about her difficulties. Kris Jenner, her mother of 67 years, experienced her first breakout in her late 20s and described it as “life-changing.” A few more well-known people with psoriasis are musician Art Garfunkel, 81, actor Jon Lovitz, 65, and Jerry Mathers, 74, also known as “The Beaver.”
We are really lucky to have role models like Cyndi Lauper who use their platform to support others in overcoming obstacles. We can’t fathom a world without her gifts and journey—what a courageous woman she is!
My Neighbor Totally Ruined My Windows with Paint after I Refused to Pay $2,000 for Her Dog’s Treatment
When Julia refuses to pay $2000 for a minor injury to her neighbor’s dog, it sparks an escalating feud. As tensions rise, Julia must navigate the chaos while dealing with family struggles. But after her neighbor splatters paint over Julia’s windows, she snaps and plots some dastardly revenge.
Let me tell you about the time I almost lost my mind living in what was supposed to be a peaceful suburban neighborhood.
My name is Julia, and for over a decade, I lived in this cozy little house with my husband Roger, and our ten-year-old son, Dean.
A cute suburban home | Source: Pexels
Life was pretty good, if you ignored the constant worry about Roger’s health. But everything changed when Linda moved in next door.
Linda. Just thinking about her makes my blood boil. She moved in with her golden retriever, Max, and from day one, we never saw eye to eye.
It wasn’t anything major at first, just little things like her loud music or the way she’d let Max wander wherever he pleased. But one sunny afternoon, things took a turn for the worse.
A golden retriever dog | Source: Pexels
I was in my backyard, pruning my roses, when Max came trotting over, wagging his tail like he owned the place. Sweet dog, really, but curious. He sniffed around and before I knew it, he let out a yelp.
Poor thing had gotten a tiny thorn in his paw. I knelt, soothed him, and gently removed the thorn. Max licked my hand, and I gave him a pat on the head.
I walked him back to Linda’s, expecting maybe a thank you. Instead, she stood there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
An angry woman standing outside her home | Source: Midjourney
“Why is my dog limping? What did you do?” she snapped.
“He just stepped on a little thorn,” I replied, trying to keep my cool. “I took it out, and he’s fine.”
She huffed, and I thought that was the end of it. Boy, was I wrong!
I stormed over to Julia’s house, my blood boiling. I pounded on her door, holding up the incriminating evidence.
The next morning, I found a note stuck to my door. It read, “You owe me $2000 for Max’s treatment.”
I stared at it, dumbfounded. Two thousand dollars? For what? The dog had a minor scratch, nothing more. I decided to go over and clear things up.
A shocked woman holding a note | Source: Midjourney
“Linda, what’s this about?” I asked, holding up the note.
“That’s for Max’s vet bill,” she said, her tone icy. “He was in pain all night because of that thorn.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous,” I replied. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars as a goodwill gesture, but two thousand is out of the question.”
Linda’s eyes narrowed. “Either you pay up, or you’ll regret it.”
From that day on, Linda made my life a living hell.
A woman standing in a quiet suburban street | Source: Midjourney
She’d knock over my garbage cans, honk and flip me off whenever she drove by. The worst was when she tried to get Dean arrested. My sweet, innocent Dean, who was just riding a mini bike like all the other neighborhood kids.
One afternoon, I was sitting on the porch, sipping some tea, when I heard the familiar sound of Linda’s car horn blaring. I looked up to see her glaring at Dean, who was playing in the driveway.
“Get that brat off that bike before I call the cops!” she screamed.
An angry woman leaning out her car window | Source: Midjourney
“Linda, they’re just kids!” I shouted back, feeling my patience wear thin.
“Your kid’s a menace,” she retorted, “and if you don’t do something about it, I will.”
I wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but I couldn’t. Roger was in the hospital again, and I was already stretched thin, trying to keep everything together. I took a deep breath and turned to Dean.
“Come inside, honey,” I said gently. “We’ll play something else.”
“But Mom, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Dean protested, tears welling up in his eyes.
A young boy with tears in his eyes | Source: Pexels
“I know, sweetie. It’s just… complicated.”
I tried to ignore Linda’s antics, focusing on Roger and Dean. But it was like living next to a ticking time bomb. Every day, I dreaded what she’d do next. And then she finally pushed me over the edge.
It was a Sunday afternoon when I got the call. Roger’s condition had taken a turn for the worse, and I needed to get to the hospital immediately.
I packed up our things, dropped Dean at my mom’s place, and rushed to the hospital.
A hospital lit up at night | Source: Pexels
For two agonizing days, I stayed by Roger’s side, barely eating or sleeping, my mind a whirlwind of fear and exhaustion.
When I finally came home, I was hoping for a brief respite, a moment to gather my strength.
Instead, I walked up my driveway to find my house transformed into a graffiti artist’s nightmare. Red and yellow paint splattered across my windows, running down in messy streaks.
It looked like someone had tried to turn my home into a circus tent. And there, right on the doorstep, was a note from Linda: “Just to make your days brighter!”
Paint splattered on a house | Source: Midjourney
I stood there, trembling with rage, the exhaustion of the past two days evaporating in the heat of my anger. This was it. This was the breaking point.
“Dean, go inside,” I said through gritted teeth.
“But Mom, what happened?” he asked, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.
“Just go inside, honey,” I repeated, softer this time, trying to keep my voice steady.
Dean nodded and hurried inside, leaving me alone with my fury.
A boy wearing a backpack | Source: Pexels
I crumpled Linda’s note in my hand, my mind racing. Enough was enough. If Linda wanted a war, she was going to get one.
Before she could answer, a wail came from inside the house. I glanced past Julia and saw her son, Dean, sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face.
That afternoon, I drove to the hardware store. I wandered the aisles, my anger giving way to a cold, calculating focus. I spotted the Japanese Beetle traps, and a plan began to form.
I bought several packs of the traps and the scent lures that attract the beetles. When I got home, I placed the scent packs in the freezer. The cold would make the wax easier to handle. My heart pounded with a mix of nerves and anticipation. This had to work.
A woman shopping in a hardware store | Source: Pexels
At three a.m., I crept into Linda’s yard, the neighborhood silent under the cover of darkness.
I felt like a character in one of those spy movies Roger loved so much. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound made my heart leap. But I was determined. I buried the scent packs deep under the mulch in Linda’s meticulously maintained flower beds.
By the time I finished, the first light of dawn was starting to break.
Early morning in a suburban neighborhood | Source: Pexels
I slipped back into my house, my pulse finally starting to slow. I climbed into bed, exhausted but feeling a grim satisfaction. Now, it was a waiting game.
The next afternoon, I peeked out my window and saw them—swarms of Japanese beetles, glinting in the sunlight as they descended on Linda’s garden. It was working.
Over the next few days, her beautiful flower beds were decimated, the once vibrant blooms reduced to tattered remnants.
A beetle on a flower | Source: Pexels
Linda’s Perspective: Beetles, Blame, and a Change of Heart
Let me set the record straight. My name is Linda, and I moved into this neighborhood hoping for some peace and quiet.
That dream was shattered when my golden retriever, Max, wandered into Julia’s yard and got a thorn in his paw. Instead of just returning him, she acted like she was doing me a favor by pulling it out.
The next day, I asked Julia to cover Max’s vet bill.
A dog lying on a sofa | Source: Pexels
I mean, he was limping and in pain all night. But she had the nerve to offer me only $100 instead of the $2000 it cost. We argued, and I told her she’d regret not paying up. I didn’t expect things to get so out of hand.
Sure, I knocked over her garbage cans a few times and honked when I drove by—just to show her I wasn’t backing down. But Julia made me out to be the villain.
It wasn’t until my garden was destroyed by beetles that I realized things had gone too far.
A woman stressfully examining plants in her garden | Source: Midjourney
I was frantic, running around my yard like a mad woman. On the third day, I was pulling out dead flowers when I spotted something odd buried in the mulch. It was a piece of plastic packaging, and my heart sank as I realized what it was—part of a Japanese Beetle trap.
Someone had done this on purpose. And I had a pretty good idea who it was.
I stormed over to Julia’s house, my blood boiling. I pounded on her door, holding up the incriminating evidence.
A front door | Source: Pexels
“Julia! Open up!” I shouted, my voice shaking with rage.
She opened the door, looking as calm as ever. “Linda, what’s going on?”
“What did you do to my garden?” I thrust the piece of plastic at her. “I found this in my flower bed. You did this, didn’t you?”
Julia’s face remained neutral, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—guilt, maybe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Linda.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I screamed. “You ruined my garden! Why would you do this?”
An angry woman shouting | Source: Pexels
Before she could answer, a wail came from inside the house. I glanced past Julia and saw her son, Dean, sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face.
“Mom, is Dad going to die?” Dean sobbed, his little voice breaking.
Julia turned away from me, her face softening as she went to her son. “No, honey, he’s going to be okay. The doctors are doing everything they can.”
I stood there, frozen, watching this scene unfold. Suddenly, my anger seemed so petty.
A boy wiping his tears | Source: Pexels
Julia wasn’t just my annoying neighbor—she was a woman dealing with a sick husband and a scared child.
“Julia, I…” I started, but my words faltered. What could I say? I had been so consumed by my anger, that I hadn’t stopped to consider what she might be going through.
Julia looked back at me, exhaustion etched into her features. “I’m sorry about your garden, Linda. But I didn’t do it. I have enough to deal with without worrying about your flowers.”
An emotional woman | Source: Pexels
The fight drained out of me. “I’m sorry, too,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you.”
She nodded, not saying anything. I backed away, feeling like an idiot. How had I let things get so out of hand?
After that, I kept to myself. I stopped the petty harassment, realizing that Julia had enough on her plate. My garden slowly recovered, and while Julia and I never became friends, we managed to coexist peacefully.
A well-kept garden | Source: Pexels
Years later, I still think about that time. Sometimes, you need to look beyond your own troubles to see what others are going through. Julia and I have remained distant neighbors, but there’s a quiet understanding between us—a mutual respect born out of adversity.
Leave a Reply