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

By the time school pictures came around, I knew how to angle my face — tilt slightly, chin down. Bangs brushed forward just enough to cast a shadow.

“Hold still,” the photographer would say every year.

I always did.

In high school, I stopped raising my hand even when I knew the answer. I didn’t want heads turning.

I didn’t want anyone looking too closely.

Invisibility felt safe, even if it meant pretending to be less than I was.

Once, a boy I liked asked me why I always wore my hair the same way.

I laughed and said, “Habit.”

He nodded, like that made sense.

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