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!
I got on the bus and met someone who shocked me
The rain was coming down in sheets, mirroring the storm brewing inside Elara. Her phone buzzed with another rejection email, and the cafe, usually a haven of warmth and quiet, felt suffocating. She huddled deeper into her coat, the bitter taste of failure lingering on her tongue.
Across the table, an elderly woman sat alone, sipping tea and watching the rain. Her face, etched with the lines of a life well-lived, was illuminated by the soft glow of the cafe lights. Elara, lost in her own despair, barely registered her presence.
Suddenly, the old woman’s hand reached across the table, placing a delicate porcelain figurine on the table beside Elara’s coffee cup. It was a small bird, its wings outstretched as if in flight. “He always loved birds,” the woman whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Elara looked up, surprised. The woman, noticing her gaze, smiled sadly. “My son, he was an artist. He used to spend hours sketching birds, capturing their flight, their freedom.”
Elara, captivated by the figurine and the woman’s gentle voice, found herself drawn into the conversation. She learned about the woman’s son, a talented musician who had passed away far too soon. She listened as the woman reminisced about his laughter, his passion for life, his love for music.
As the rain continued to fall, a strange sense of peace settled over Elara. The weight of her own disappointment seemed to lessen, replaced by a newfound empathy. The woman, a stranger, had opened her heart to Elara, sharing her grief and her memories.
When it was time to leave, Elara hesitated. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for sharing your story with me.”
The old woman smiled, her eyes twinkling. “It’s a gift, my dear. A gift to remember.”
Elara left the cafe, the rain washing away the remnants of her despair. She carried the small bird figurine with her, a reminder of the unexpected kindness and the power of human connection. She realized that even in the darkest of moments, there is always beauty to be found, and that sometimes, the greatest gifts come from the most unexpected places.
**The bus lurched forward, throwing me against the seat in front of me. Groaning, I rubbed my shoulder and glared at the rush-hour traffic. Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. Another rejection email, this one particularly brutal, had just landed in my inbox, and the taste of failure was bitter in my mouth. The cafe, my usual refuge, felt suffocating, the cheerful chatter of other patrons a jarring counterpoint to the gloom inside me.
Then, I noticed him. An elderly gentleman, his face a roadmap of wrinkles, sat across from me, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle. It wasn’t a casual glance; it was a stare, unwavering and unsettling. My irritation, already simmering, boiled over. “What’s your problem?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.
He didn’t flinch. His gaze, unwavering, seemed to search for something deep within me. My anger flared. “Seriously, why are you staring?” I demanded, my voice laced with venom. He finally lowered his eyes, a shadow of sadness crossing his face.
When his stop arrived, he rose, his movements slow and deliberate. As he passed me, he placed a small, folded piece of paper in my hand before stepping off the bus. Curiosity piqued, I unfolded it.
The words, written in a shaky hand, hit me like a physical blow. “I’m so sorry. I’m deaf and I couldn’t hear what you said. I didn’t mean to upset you. You just look exactly like my late son. I haven’t seen his face in so long and I miss him so much.”
Shame washed over me, hotter than the midday sun. My anger, my impatience, my own petty frustrations, had blinded me to the depth of this man’s grief. I had lashed out at him, a stranger, in a moment of self-absorption, inflicting pain upon someone already carrying the weight of a profound loss.
The rest of the ride was a blur of remorse. Each jolt of the bus, each drop of rain on the window, seemed to amplify the echo of my own cruelty. I replayed the encounter in my mind, each harsh word a fresh wound. I imagined his face, the sadness in his eyes, the loneliness he must have felt in that crowded bus.
That day, I learned a lesson that would forever stay with me. Kindness, even in the face of frustration, is always the better path. For you never truly know the burdens others carry, the stories etched on their faces, the echoes of a love lost. I carried the weight of my own regret, a heavy cloak draped over my shoulders.
But amidst the remorse, a small seed of change was planted. I began to observe the world with a newfound empathy. I listened more intently to the stories of others, sought to understand their perspectives, and offered a helping hand whenever possible.
The memory of the elderly man and his poignant message remained with me, a constant reminder of the importance of compassion and the fragility of the human spirit. It was a lesson learned the hard way, a lesson etched into my soul, a reminder that kindness, like a gentle rain, can wash away the bitterness and nourish the soul.
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