Freckles

Damn freckles.  I have always felt like I got the shaft from the freckle fairy.  For as long as I can remember I’ve had them.  And for as long as I can remember I’ve hated them.  When I was growing up, I envied girls with clear, beautiful skin.  Even if they had a bit of acne, I could overlook that if they were freckle-less.  I never had a problem with acne, but I felt as if I looked more like a leper.  I didn’t just have a few freckles, I had a lot of dark freckles.  All over my face.  Made worse during the summer months when I was out in the sun all the time.  When I was in my teens and had my own baby-sitting money to spend, I tried a variety of face creams that purported to make them fade. 

What a waste of my hard-earned babysitting money.

When you’re young and all you want to do is fit in, you curse the things that make you different.  I also hated my name for that very reason.  It was just one more thing that made me stand out from everyone else.  As we all now know, though, the older you get the more self-confident you become.  Well, hopefully.  And finally, one day, you begin to appreciate and dare I say, celebrate the things that make you different.  I can’t say that I absolutely love my freckles, but I have come to really appreciate the uniqueness of my name.  That is, the uniqueness of a totally and completely white-bread woman with pale skin and freckles named “Carmen”.  And when I look in the mirror now, I don’t obsess about the freckles.  In fact, I don’t even really see them – not that they have *poof* disappeared or anything. 

I’ve moved on to obsessing about the wrinkles.  So much for becoming more confident, right?

For my girls, freckles are one of the ways that they identify with me.  They actually want freckles because I have freckles, and it is this fact that has really changed my perspective.  Emily and Madison, who have both been blessed with clear olive-colored complexions, hunt for freckles on their body to point out to me, as if the freckles prove that they “belong” to me.  And last year during the summer months, to my delight, cute little freckles started to pop out under Cameron and Quincy’s eyes.  I tried to capture a good picture of them yesterday as they were playing outside.

It’s funny how much your kids can change your perception of things, especially your perception of yourself.  If you let them.

Quincy and Cameron's Freckles

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11 thoughts on “Freckles

  1. Carmen-
    Great entry. You don’t know me, but I went to high school with Greg. The title of your blog entry caught my attention because i have a body full of freckles! like you, i hardly even notice them anymore…the best part is that your daughters want them so they can look like you. How sweet and a true compliment to you. Take care and hi to greg!

    • Thanks for visiting my site Laura, and for the comment. When I told Greg that you had commented on my post about freckles, he said he should’ve known. Sounds like we’re blessed/cursed with the same thing. Greg has always told me that my freckles attracted him to me. All I can say is, that’s proof that there really is someone for everyone!

    • Yes, and it is sad that it doesn’t stay that way. It’s hard to teach your kids to accept themselves when you struggle with things like extra weight and wrinkles!

  2. I on the other hand always gloried in my freckles. I thought that they made me unique and special. They are as much a part of who I am as say an arm or a leg.

    I remember when my kids were born my amazement that they had no freckles. Cuz don’t you know you should just come with em!

    As the years progress I watch in joy as the freckles appear on their bodies. Especially Delaney, for I agree its as if the freckles mark her as being mine (in case the resemblance wasn’t enough for ya!)

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