I never thought I would write something about my birthmark. Mostly because it has been there so long, existing as just another part of me, that I forget it’s there. It’s just as much part of my face as my eyes, mouth, or nose. I decided it might be time to write this because a lot of people have been asking me about it lately. Sometimes they’re simply curious, and other times it comes out in a way that sorta-kinda hurts my feelings. I’m always a little surprised when people my age or older do not know the rule of “if you don’t have something nice to say don’t say anything at all.”
I go long periods of time that I don’t think about it and nobody says anything even if they are curious. But sometimes when I meet a new person, I think to myself: “Should I just tell them what it is before they ask? Are they staring at it? Do they even see it?” I am grateful that my birthmark is simply that: a physical, superficial splotch of pink on my face caused by an area of busted capillaries that occurred when I was born. There are no big risks or health problems associated with it, and for that I am so thankful. I realize there are people who were born with disabilities, disorders and diseases that greatly affect their life and cause them to have to live life in beautifully modified ways. That is not the case for me, and I just thought maybe if there was some other girl out there with a big birthmark on her face or anything anywhere on her body that causes people to stare or question, I’d write this for her. We all have a beauty mark of some kind. Sometimes they’re small, unseen, or blend in. Other times they’re not.
I had a couple of laser treatments on it when I was little. I think they were meant to lighten the redness and help the blood vessels while they were still small. Apparently, older people can get the treatments, too, if they want. I’ve never considered it because I’d be really sad without it. Not that it completely defines me or anything, but I am used to seeing it in the mirror, and I like it that way. I’m also used to it getting an even deeper red color when I’m embarrassed or when my boyfriend says some sweet remark that makes me blush. My birthmark is a little tattle tale when it comes to me being flustered. It starts around my eye on the side of my nose and wiggles its way down onto my left cheek. There are also a couple little splotches that got away and made their way down to the corners of my mouth. I think that’s one of the coolest parts about birthmarks is that they’re like snowflakes. No two are exactly alike. Sometimes people have super cool birthmarks that you don’t even see and others make themselves very apparent, but, no matter what, they only emphasize further how special you are.Â
I love makeup. I wear makeup because the process of putting it on is both fun and relaxing. There is something therapeutic about the routine and rhythm of it. It also looks pretty and there’s nothing that makes me feel more confident than long eyelashes loaded up with mascara. When I wear foundation, it can nearly cover up my birthmark. I don’t mean to do it, but nobody is going to put foundation on half of their face; that breaks all the rules of blending. I’ve never felt the need to cover anything up. My parents have always assured me of my birthmark’s unique beauty ever since I was a little girl, so there’s never been any shame in showing it off. Actually, when I was little I had a lot of pride about it. Filling out those “what makes me different” worksheets in elementary school was a breeze.Â
There are lots of names for birthmarks that are scientific and fancy. To be honest, scientific and fancy really isn’t my style. My parents told me it was an angel kiss and before I was born, a beautiful angel with pretty pink lipstick gave me a big smooch on the cheek. I wholeheartedly believe that, and that’s the term I’ve used for it for the past twenty years. Apparently there are other terms? I’m sorry I cannot share them because of my lack of knowledge, but maybe if you’ve got one like me and you have a fancy name of it, you can share.Â
My close friends tell me that they don’t even see it anymore. They’re also the people who are ready to fight when someone says something about it or asks a question about it in a not-so-polite way. Once when I was little, while on vacation, a couple who had a little too much to drink asked little seven-year-old me if I’d gotten punched in the face and what was wrong with it. My siblings and our lifelong family friends, ranging from an intimidating seven to twelve years old bucked up like they were linebackers. My mom is ready to throw down anytime I call her and tell her the latest person who asked if I’ve been in a fight recently. I love protective people. I don’t really appreciate insensitive people who don’t think before they speak. I think there are a lot of people like that in the world and it’s important to learn how to be a polite human being before going out into the real world. No matter what you see or might be thinking, the person you’re considering asking really might not want you to stare or question. Let’s all have a little more courtesy and love toward one another.
Being unique is a fun bragging right. One of the ways I’m unique is right there on my face, like a neon sign showing everybody my individuality. I like it that way. Other people are unique in other beautiful and fabulous ways that might go unseen at first glance. Everybody is unique, which seems like a silly oxymoron thing to say, but it’s true. Whether you’re a girly pop with a face birthmark like me, you have any other physical feature that makes you stand out, or your originality is bursting at the seams to be seen, this is for you.Â