How to Explain to a Child What is on your Face

     Over thanksgiving break I went to a rock store in Chicago with my dad and spent hours looking at the hundreds of different rocks in the store. We slowly walked around holding the rocks when we could and gluing our face to the glass when we couldn't. My dad got a gift card to the store a few years before and we had never managed to get back to the store to spend it all. There was an exhibit downstairs showing a bunch of petrified ancient creatures and dinosaur bones. Parents often come to the store with their children because it's educational and interesting for people of any age. My dad and I slowly walked around making sure to look at every organism so that we could speculate on the distance of time and wonder how it was possible that after millions of years some species didn't seem to ever change.
     When we finally got around to looking at all the fossils we were about to go up the stairs. I tried to walk towards the stairs but a little girl was blocking my way. "peanut butter jelly time!" the little girl sang while looking up at me with her toothless grin. I smiled at her, remembering how important it was to feel acknowledged by adults when I was little. She looked up at me. "Why have you got all those red spots on your face?" she asked. I smiled and shrugged comically, trying to seem unfazed. I looked up at my dad and I could see how shocked he looked. I quickly moved around the little girl and went up the flight of steps. I held down tears as I realized how hurt I felt at the little girl's simple question.
     It is the worst feeling in the world to be asked about your acne. Every day you look in the mirror is a day where you try to convince yourself that it is going away. Every time you look in the mirror you try to ignore it. You find reasons to believe that you're actually gorgeous and people are just too afraid to approach you because of your beauty. That's the real reason. Right? When a child asks you why your blemishes exist everything comes crashing down. You realize that everyone who said your skin was getting better was lying because they wanted to make you feel better. A child never lies, especially not a stranger. They haven't learned the social cues of ignoring people's faults.
     I wish though that I could have been brave enough to guide the little girl towards the stairs so that we could talk about the situation I am in. It could have been a perfect opportunity to teach her about what makes a person really beautiful. I wish I could have said that each spot that appeared on my face was an occasion to prove to the world that I am more that what is presented by my exterior. I wish that I could have told her that the spots were out of my control and they just appear on some people's faces like me when they are my age. I wish I could have told her that the spots on my face prove to me that I have true friends who aren't just there because they think I'm pretty but because they actually care about my and value my thought and intelligence. I could have told her that the acne on my face helps me realize the value of the health in the rest of my body and that if my only problem in life is my acne then my life must be pretty good.
     These things are so simple. Children are just curious. They see things in their world and they ask because they haven't yet learned that asking is bad. I could have been brave and taught her something special. I could have made it so that when she reached puberty and got a few blemishes she wasn't afraid of them or disgusted by them but strong because she knew that they would teach her a lot. Instead I just shrugged and held back my tears and let her continue to wonder. She might have even asked someone else. Hopefully that person will be braver than me.