“What happened to your forehead?” is the question I have been asked my entire life. I was born with a large birthmark called a hemangioma. It is located on my forehead and it is very large. Throughout my years in grade school my mom would secretly tell the hairdresser to cover up my birthmark, and she made me wear lots of hats. Even though she knew that my appearance didn’t matter, she knew that I would be seen differently and teased. And that is exactly what occurred. The negative reactions to my birthmark left me insecure, frustrated, and alone. As I grew older I began to make up stories. I would tell people that my sister hit me with a baseball bat or I got kicked in a soccer game. My birthmark was a physical scar that embedded emotional ones as well; I began to care too much about what other people thought of me. I would hide because I feared the ridicule and revulsion that eventually became commonplace.  As I reflect on this time of my childhood, I realize that subconsciously I had trained myself to hide. I molded myself to the opinions of others as to not attract attention. I was afraid that if I told someone a plan I had they would judge me or say I wasn’t capable.  I locked up my dreams and emotions for many years and threw away the key.
        One day things started to change. A pediatrician next door to me noticed that I was regularly babysitting all the young children on my street and suggested that I apply for a volunteer job in the pediatrics wing of University Hospitals. I took her advice, went for an interview, and obtained the job.  I remember my first day. I was scared and insecure, but I finally pushed all that away and tentatively walked to my assigned area. The nurses immediately said, “baby in room 415 needs attention while the mom has a break.” As I walked into the baby’s room I gowned up, and put gloves on. Before I could even introduce myself, the baby was handed to me and the mom walked out. I sat there staring. He had tubes down his throat. I smiled at him, rocked him, and then he fell asleep on me. All of a sudden, a whole new world opened up to me and I felt a sense of purpose wash over me.  In that instant I began to feel free, like I was unlocked. All the doubt and insecurity that was bottled up inside me for my entire life evaporated. Suddenly I didn’t care what others were going to think of me, and I felt proud of who I want to be.
    Some people might not believe that a sense of self can be restored in an instant, and indeed it cannot be… completely. What I have come to realize is that there was a moment that will forever stay with me as the opening of a window and the beginning of confidence.  It does not mean that instantly the past insecurities and the subconscious behaviors they have determined will vanish; it means that the building of a person more worthy in their mind’s self-critical eye has begun.
     As I have made this journey, an interesting thing has happened to my mark. It has begun to disappear. It is translucent now, and many people do not even see it. In the end I am grateful for my mark. The adversity it provided made me stronger and more self-aware. Today I am left with the strengths I have gained from my mark, while the mark itself is essentially gone. I have a purpose for my life and a newfound confidence in my schoolwork, and in working with children at the hospital, I have found the career to which I will dedicate my life: pediatric nursing.