I Was Relentlessly Bullied for Having a Birthmark
Just thinking about sharing this next story creates an uncomfortable
tightness in my belly. As I type these words, I wonder whether I’ll have to
courage to actually publish them online. To you, the reader, this may just seem
like your typical personal struggle story, but to me, it’s like a shameful
secret which I’ve shared with few people until now.
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I REMEMBER during my high school days I’d get out of bed to go look out the window as soon as I woke up. I’d roll up my blind and watch for movement in the foliage of the trees or stray leaves dancing on Mum’s freshly cut lawn. Anything more than a breath of air and I’d cringe at the thought of crossing the football oval on my way to school. Most girls worried about the wind lifting up their summer dress, but I worried about it revealing what was under my heavy blunt fringe.
One evening, I walked into the formal lounge room to wish Mum and her partner Dave* a good night. I sat down on the floor in my satin pyjamas and leaned my back…
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I REMEMBER during my high school days I’d get out of bed to go look out the window as soon as I woke up. I’d roll up my blind and watch for movement in the foliage of the trees or stray leaves dancing on Mum’s freshly cut lawn. Anything more than a breath of air and I’d cringe at the thought of crossing the football oval on my way to school. Most girls worried about the wind lifting up their summer dress, but I worried about it revealing what was under my heavy blunt fringe.
One evening, I walked into the formal lounge room to wish Mum and her partner Dave* a good night. I sat down on the floor in my satin pyjamas and leaned my back…
