I’d Been Ashamed of the Birthmark on My Forehead Since Childhood – 25 Years Later, It Changed My Life

My father held my hand.

Neither of them let go, and I was grateful for that. I took it as a sign they understood that this didn’t erase them, replace them, or change what we were to each other.

He looked at me with tears running down his face and said nothing at first.

Just looked.

“I have parents,” I finally said, because someone had to. “They raised me. They chose me.”

“I understand, and I’m grateful.” He looked up at my mom and dad, nodding to them.

His eyes were filled with tears, and I think a nod was all he could manage at that moment.

He smiled then.

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