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I grew up believing the birthmark on my forehead was the worst thing about me. I spent years trying to hide it, and finally scheduled surgery to erase it. Then a man I’d never met looked at me during a job interview — and told me I was supposed to be dead!
What he said next left me shaking.
The kind that makes people look twice, then pretend they weren’t looking at all.
In elementary school, kids mocked me because of it.
It started small.
A boy in my class leaned across the lunch table one day and squinted at my forehead like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
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