Most people are very concerned about their skin and a pimple can seem like the end of the world. I was born with a birthmark that took up more than half of my face when I was a baby. They told my mom it wasn’t dangerous and that it would get smaller, fade, and disappear over time. I’m 17 and I still have the birthmark on my left eye. It’s smaller but honestly, I think the only reason it’s smaller is because my head got bigger. Don’t get me wrong I freak out when the occasional pimple starts popping up, but in my case, this is permanent.
So what is a birthmark? Birthmarks can be any color or shape, they can be anywhere. Think of it as a freckle. My birthmark is a reddish-pink mark around my left eye. There are many stories behind birthmarks, some people say it’s a mark that shows the way you died in your past life. Other people say it symbolizes luck.
As a kid, I didn’t pay much attention to it but obviously, as I grew older I began to develop insecurities about my body and the way I looked. Unfortunately, my birthmark was one of the first things that made me self-conscious. I don’t remember people picking on me much in elementary school because every time someone would say something about it they would get in trouble. I do remember people asking my mom if it was makeup or the weird stares I would get from adults. In middle school, people began to make fun of me for it and yell out unnecessary comments like “Who sock you,” or “Shut up before I give you another purple eye”.
I began to let my hair down and do a side part, not because it was trendy or because I thought it looked good on me, but because I could cover most of the left side of my face with my hair and hide the hideous mark on my face. Honestly, that didn’t work much. People began to laugh at me and call me “emo” because of the way I dressed and wore my hair.
I would beg and cry to my mom to get it removed because it looked like someone hit me and I felt ugly, she would push my hair back and look at my birthmark. She smiled then laughed, she agreed it looked like someone hit me, but she never forgot to tell me how beautiful it made me she still refused my request. This only frustrated me more and made me hate my face even more.
I started searching for ways to remove my birthmark by myself, I tried putting ice over it or making weird mixtures out of anything I could find but evidently, that didn’t work.
I would spend hours crying in my room because I felt like an alien. I looked different, so I felt different. There were a few people who would tell me it made me unique and that it was a sign of luck or that I was exaggerating because it wasn’t as bad as having a feature that they didn’t like. As ungrateful as it sounds, I began to grow angry at these people because they didn’t know what it was like growing up with one. I felt like people just complimented it because they felt bad for asking.
During quarantine, I had a lot of free time so I decided to listen to my sister and try makeup finally. I had wanted to try it before but my parents just never let me. I can’t say trying makeup was a mistake because I love makeup, but it became unhealthy for me at one point. I remember feeling pretty but minutes after applying makeup I looked straight at my left eye and put more makeup on trying to hide it. The left side of my face would be caked up with makeup but still, I somehow could not completely hide it. I felt like it was a curse that would follow me forever. I tried almost every foundation and concealer out there, but it still didn’t hide it.
I tried a green color corrector because I thought my birthmark was a red shade but it made my birthmark look purple. Then I tried mixing a dark orange corrector to block out the purple shade. It worked better and hid my birthmark. I became addicted to it and I refused to leave my house without makeup, especially for school.
I remember once I didn’t put on as much makeup as I usually did because I was running late. On my way into school, a supervisor outside gave me the look everyone gave me when they noticed my birthmark. Not even a minute after sitting on my seat she popped up into the classroom and said “Can I take the student who just walked in,”. I knew exactly what she wanted me for, I heard people whispering about it on my way out. I wanted to break down into tears. I knew she was just trying to help but I couldn’t help but feel annoyed. I felt embarrassed, I remember trying so hard not to cry and beating myself up for not wearing enough makeup to hide it.
I know you might think that I’m being rude and she was just trying to help but imagine being pulled out of class for looking a little different. After that day I would rather be late than go to school without enough makeup. The year after that I remember trying to embrace my birthmark and not wearing makeup just because who cares what people think, right? Yeah, that motivation ended the moment a teacher called me out in front of the whole class with the most unpleasant face, he asked what was wrong with my eye after staring at my eye for one of the most uncomfortable minutes of my life. Being called out for my birthmark in a group of people is one of the things I detest the most. I feel like I’m being singled out for looking just a little different.
I don’t hate myself or my birthmark. I hate how birthmarks aren’t a normal thing that people are aware of. It’s the people who I would tell it was just a birthmark, a mark that didn’t mean much but they would say no and deny everything I said, who would declare it was something else as if they were there the moment I was born. The ones who made a small little mark a big deal and made me believe I hated my birthmark when really it was just the way people made me feel like an outcast.
I’m not fully comfortable talking about my birthmark. Sometimes I get self-conscious when people ask, but sometimes I like to fool around and say it’s a hickey or that I got in a fight because people’s reactions are hilarious, but honestly people’s rude comments mean nothing to me. To the people who compliment my birthmark, honestly, you’re the best, and to those who look at me trying to figure out what it is just ask. I would rather people ask than to look at me awkwardly.
This year I worked on loving myself a little more. I realized that I don’t actually hate my birthmark. I honestly think it’s beautiful. Yes, there are those bad days where I look at myself in the mirror and just wonder what my life would’ve been like if I wasn’t born with it. What it would’ve been like to be “normal” to not get weird looks every time I go out. I cover half of my face and imagine how beautiful I could be if I didn’t have it, but I know I can’t change this about me, so maybe I was meant to have it.
Honestly, I’m so thankful my mom never let me get it removed, I knew there was a part of me that loved my birthmark and loved how it made me a little unique. I know it’s a part of me and removing it would be taking a part of me. Looking a little different from the rest whether it is a birthmark, skin disorder, or even freckles doesn’t make us any different and although it’s hard to believe that it really is the truth. I learned to love my birthmark in different ways like thinking I’m the chosen one, that I have some sort of superpower just because I was lucky enough to be born with this mark.
