my skin has always made me feel weird.
since i was a child it has made stick out and has separated me from the rest of my family. my father and i share fair, freckly skin while my mom and sisters share dark, spotless skin. if you were a pre-teen which would you opt for? yeah, me too. no offense to my darling father but my pasty disappears-in-bright-photographs complexion has never been my favorite thing about myself. i can recall the way i envied my sisters' dark tan lines during the summer when we were growing up. i call to mind how lovely they looked in white while i was suited for a "nice coral." now, i realize there's much to be thankful for and god made me just right and all that jazz but level with me and remember, just for a moment, the way you envied something about a woman in your life. maybe it was her perfect hair. maybe it was the way her smile was never crooked. maybe it was her perfectly clear skin. maybe it was her size, or her voice, or her features, or her confidence. we all have that one thing (or many, if we're being honest here) that we just don't care for when it comes to our bodies. after my melanoma i developed a respect for my skin that i never had before. i am kinder to myself now when it comes to my fair skin. but try as i may i cannot see my scar as beautiful no matter how many times i listen to the alessia cara song. it makes me stand out. it makes me feel ugly. the scar represents what i always felt about my skin: that it was ugly. it's easy to find beauty in other people's scars. in other people's stories. in other people's lives. the hard part is finding the beauty in your own. i write this today, in the office of my dermatologist, to tell you: i'm working on it. and if you're working through something similar: i know how you feel. all my freckly love, ld
1 Comment
10/15/2017 05:09:24 am
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