My Moles Are Listening To You

December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)

Sometimes you think too long about something. I read this prompt this morning and pondered it, off and on, until now. I am no closer to determining what, specifically, makes me different. Everything about me makes me different from you. We are all different from one another. We are all the same. We are all ONE! Let’s hold hands!

I have a lot of moles.

Do you have a lot of moles?

My moles make me different. They are even different from one another. Even if you HAD as many moles as me, they would be different moles. No two alike, just like snowflakes. There are big ones, little ones, hairy ones, red ones. Ones that have been burned off. Some that I am watching closely, to make sure they don’t turn into cancer. Or, so I can see they are cancer, when they eventually turn into cancer. Someone with as many moles as me, it’s kind of a given that one of them, at some time, will turn into cancer.

Fresco, age 2.5, loves my moles. I know, because he kisses them and tells them he loves them. He has one little mole on his chest. Not even really a mole, more a freckle. But it was noticeable because until I saw it, I hadn’t noticed that he had no moles, any more than I notice my own moles on a daily basis.

So I guess, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see my moles. I just see me. They are that much a part of me. But I wasn’t born with moles, I don’t think. I know I get some new ones every summer.

And I know from twitter that I am not the only person in the world with a chin mole that grows hair. Every few weeks someone tweets about plucking her chin hair. I don’t think this makes me especially beautiful, or unbeautiful. It is just a chin mole that grows hair. My chin hairs are white, now.

Is there a significance to my moles? The fact that they are mutant skin. Skin gone wrong, or different.

They are blemishes, in this world where Cindy Crawford became a supermodel *despite* her mole and where lesser women are airbrushed to a convenient shade, generally mole free, in magazines and on billboards. Has there been a contestant on America’s Next Top Model who is covered in moles?

In a high school math class, someone connected the moles on my arm to make an isoscoles triangle.

I once wondered if all the moles on my body grew together if I would turn mole-coloured.

Nothing deep or significant is coming from the moles.

I also have a very special nose. That’s a whole other post.

But getting back to the prompt: what do I do that lights people up?

The things I do that light up people’s lives, if I may be so bold, is: make them laugh. Hold their pain. Collect and reflect. Put my mole-covered, freaky-nosed face in their faces and say, “You’re all right. I know you are.”

Some people don’t go for that. That’s OK. For them, I have some interesting hair to look at. And I am quite tall.

I have something for everyone. That’s what makes me different. I am a space age appliance. I will chop, dice, clean your gutters and sing you a song. I will take out your garbage and bring back your mail. I will tap dance on your coffee table if I think it’s what you need. I think everyone should get what they need. I want you to tell me about it.