I have a witch mole.
It is a birthmark on my cheek that sticks out like someone glued the tip of a skin-colored raisin to my face.
When I was a little girl, it was just a dark, slightly raised “beauty mark” like Natalie Portman’s signature mole. But now that I’m 42 and all hormonally out of whack, my skin is changing. My mole is growing.
And as if that’s not exciting enough…it’s hairy. I’m talking dark, wiry, mole hairs.
Maybe even a grove of them.
And even though I pluck it daily, perhaps multiple times daily, it seems to have an agenda of its own: “Must. Cover. Mole. With hair.” The hair appears to be fiercely protective of its nesting ground. Either that or it might just be part of my lady-beard trying to aggressively claim new territory.
I probably shouldn’t have told you, because now if we ever meet you’re not going to see anything BUT this thing. You’ll probably come at me like Austin Powers in . “MOLE-AY, MOLE-AY, MOLE-AY!”
Clearly, I’m obsessing about this.
But I can’t help it. I have young children. Apparently three-dimensional facial forms have a magnetic pull to the perma-sticky fingers of the 10-and-under crowd.
When I’m reading to my five-year-old son “Bucket Head,” I have learned to position myself on his right with my mole facing away from him so that he can concentrate on the story and not on my mole. “What IS that thing, Mommy? It’s looking at me!”
I realize I have choices.
Celebrities like Sarah Jessica Parker and Enrique Iglesias have had their signature moles removed. Believe me, I’ve thought about it.
But ultimately, I have come to the conclusion that my witch mole is part of my charm…part of the ornamentation that is uniquely mine.
And then one glorious Sunday at church, God spoke to me and confirmed my suspicions.
The reading that day was from the Book of Proverbs (31:9b-31). It’s the one about “A [spouse] of noble character being worth far more than rubies.” (In the Bible it says “wife,” not spouse, but this proverb is universal, in my humble opinion.)
And then the “ah-a” moment:
“…Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.”
Can I get a witness?!
“Aw hayle yeah” I thought to myself. “Who cares what I look like?! Beauty fades. I want to be a good person. I want to be a good wife, and mother, and community member. What matters most is how pretty I am on the inside!”
So fortified was I by the Good Book that when I got home from church that day I decided to tackle some piles of clutter and make a hefty donation to the local Goodwill store.
A few hours later, I pulled up to the donation station, unloaded my boxes and bags, and was feeling pretty good about my contribution to the greater good that day.
Until:
“Would you like a receipt, sir?” the Goodwill volunteer asked me.
Oh. My. God.
She just called me “sir.”
So much for the greater good. So much for beauty being only skin deep.
That one syllable shook me to the core.
Quick word of advice gals, don’t forget your lipstick when you’re out there doing good works for the greater good, because there is nothing that can take the wind out of your sail like being mistaken for a man.
No wait. That can’t be the moral of this story.
How about this: steer clear of the Goodwill! Their volunteers are the meanest!
No, that can’t be right.
Eh, fuck it.
Does anyone have the number of Sarah Jessica Parker’s dermatologist?
KIDDING. I kid.
The mole is staying, dammit.
If you don’t like it, don’t look at it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some work to do. (As soon as I finish plucking.)
Leslie Marinelli is a writer, wife, mother of three, amateur homemaker, and transplanted Pittsburgher in the suburbs of Atlanta. She blogs at The Bearded Iris: A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All and is the Editor in Chief and a weekly columnist at In The Powder Room, a global online community for women. Leslie is a BlogHer Voice of the Year, a Babble Top 100 Mom Blogger, and a Circle of Moms Top 25 Funny Mom. She also like she parents: loudly and with a lot of apologies.
About Leslie Marinelli
I have a mole on my chin that grows coarse hairs at superspeed. I also have one on each arm. The more I rip the hairs out, the longer and faster they grow. It sucks but it’s not the kind of thing I can rock. One funny thing is that where I live in Thailand, hairy moles are considered good luck. So you will see people with really long, like inches long, mole bushes growing out of their faces and necks. NOt really women, though, mostly old Chinese guys.
How is it possible that every single time I read your work, I love you even more than I did before? It’s disgusting. Like moles.
I have one on my right cheek that used to grow a single beard-like hair. I plucked it whenever I saw it.
Then it started growing three at a time. Stupid multi-tasking asshole.
Then it was five. Three thick ones and two baby hairs that would run from the tweezers.
About three weeks ago, while plucking my mole-bush in my bedroom, my 3 year old wanted a hug, so she RAN up to me and squeezed me. I managed to grab, not only those evil little hairs, but the mole itself. Mind you, it doesn’t/didn’t stick out. It is/was flat. I am/was using past and current tense because I ripped that little sucker clean off my face. It stung like a bitch! I’m still waiting for the final results, and currently have an outline of pigment and a tiny scab on my cheek.
Good times.
DYING! “Mole-bush”!!! Bwhahaha. Girl, you may be onto something here. The Tweezerman Surgery Method sounds right up my alley…free, fast, and easy (like me).
I had a mole on my neck. Every baby would find it and pull on it.. I had an old man (drivers ed teacher when I was 16!!!!!!) asked me why I don’t have it removed. Funny thing is it didn’t bother me it just bothered everyone else. Two years ago ( in my 40′s) I had the studid thing removed and it was the best thing I every did ..
That Driver’s Ed teacher was a jerk. I wish people would understand that their words stick with us forever and that things like our bodies are really none of their business. I’m glad you are happy with your choice though. That’s the most important thing.
Are you sure the Goodwill lady was talking to you and not to the mole?! Because, the way you describe it, it seems to have a life of its own!!
OMG. I didn’t think of that! She probably was! And you know what, I bet my mole actually IS a dude…particularly since he’s always adjusting his nuts. Problem solved. THANK YOU!
I have a mole on my stomach that’s flat, (the mole, not my stomach), and it gets measured every time I have my special dear-lord-will-you-please-just-sedate-me-already yearly woman’s visit to the doctor. I had one doctor who expressed concern over it seeming to grow from one year to the next until I pointed out that the mole was not growing, but rather my stomach. She at least had the sense to look contrite that she hadn’t thought of that prior to opening up her mouth. One doctor even asked me to consider eventually getting it removed, but, back in high school when I wore bikinis, guys used to always compliment my mole…so, yeah, there’s that.
What was that proverb about vanity again?
Love love love your clarification about the mole not the stomach, because I was about to be all, “BRAGGER!” Your mole sounds sexier than my mole. If your mole was hairy or wore a sombrero, I bet guys wouldn’t have complimented it.
As much as I am all for being okay with your body – moles are in a funny position. If they get irritated they morph in icky moles that turn into melanoma. It is better for your skin and health to have them removed. Same with skin tags. I have had several taken off because the dermatologist looks at them funny and says things like, “Hmm that looks suspicious.” You never want to hear those words when someone is scanning your body. I do however have 2 big ugly scars from mole removal which also seem to flashing lights to the younger crowd and I am fine saying, “That’s my ugly scar from where they removed a mole.”
Dude – we’re twinsies. I’ve had two moles sliced from my body for the same reason. I keep pointing to the extra eyeball on my cheek and
beggingasking my dermatologist things like “Are you SURE this one isn’t suspicious? It looked pretty suspicious last night when it ate the last Butterfinger from my kids’ Halloween candy bag.”Hopefully it won’t move, they are really suspicious when they start moving around your face.
You could always get Nature Boy* to draw a little face on it, the way he does with some of your other computer graphic additions. Didn’t he do so for Bucket Head,** who at one time had a skin-flappy thing growing on his ear? Then the two of you could have matching “It’s looking at you” . . . “No, it’s looking at YOU!” conversations. Just a thought.
For those of you new to the game:
*wickedly talented & funny eldest son
**adorable youngest son
P.S. No, Iris is not paying me to spread the love on her children. Stick around and they’ll grow on you just so, so BIG your heart will hurt.
That does it, Terrie. You’re officially on the payroll now. (Is it okay if we pay you in custom designed talking photoshopped skin-flappy things?)
I have a chin mole that’s getting bigger. It doesn’t grow hair, but I want it gone.
I was at Blissdom last year and a lady I just met thought it was yogurt on my chin. Nope. We were both kind of mortified.
I’ve met you twice and I’ve NEVER noticed a mole on your face. Now I’m going to stare at it all the time!
Well this is awkward, because I’ve met you THREE times. And also, I’ve never noticed your chin mole/yogurt. OMG. Could it be? Is it true? Are we spending all this time obsessing about perceived flaws that other people never even notice?
Unfortunately, CHINS grow dark, wiry hairs, too, and I can’t easily have my chin removed.
Guuuurl, don’t get me started on the chin hair.
I always thought they were “Marks of Distinction”… or nipples for the devil’s children…
I totally have a demon nipple on my cheek, too….
SNORT – “Marks of Distinction” sounds like a band name. (I call dibs!) And “demon nipples”? Ha! That’s a new one! I probably need a matching set to pull that one off though. Damn.
Saying don’t look at it is just an invitation to stare, you know. I’m with The Animated Woman…I do not recall a mole; I think you’ve invented it in your mind.
I KNOW! QUIT LOOKING AT ME! Kidding. Look! Look! Mom, are you looking?
Oh wait, you’re right. It’s not a mole. It really was half of a raisin. Damn. I need to shower more often.
Riiight. A hairy raisin with a sombrero. HAWT!
I met you in person recently and I don’t remember seeing a mole. I wants my money back!
Ha! Your loss, sister. It’s real and it’s spectacular! Either you were too busy drawing or it was wearing a costume. Sometimes I dress it up in a little sombrero as a conversation starter.
Love this, and your mole.
And my mole loves you back. In fact, never get within two feet of it or it might reach out and touch you in a nonconsensual way.