SPOTS! (as requested, a new post, about....me)

In my youth, Cindy Crawford was big, and her mole was even bigger. And by big I mean, HOT. And sexy and beautiful and all the good stuff, so suffice it to say I was always pleased with the spots on my face. I thought the mole by my eye was especially alluring and the one on my cheek just gave the cheek a little extra flavor. I also became quite cozy with the two moles on my right arm and the one on my left. All cute. All conspicuous and unique to me. I imagined that the future ‘special someone’ would always note that part of my features with endearment and fondness. (Interestingly enough, not a single past boyfriend has ever mentioned it.) As I grew older, those marks became my comfort and solace, mainstays on a face that has been through the trials of adolescent hormones (and not just during adolescence!) and rashes and weight gain and all the horrifying things that can happen to an egotistical and selfish soul like mine that occasionally forgets that her looks are not the end-all of the world… nevertheless, they were always there and always the same. Comforting.

So anyway, just recently I have noticed an incredible increase of these moles on various and random parts of my body and I’m not gonna lie-I am curiously fearful of the meaning of these appearances. My sister recently told me that on African Americans, brown spots can often indicate the onset of diabetes, which is common amongst African Americans. But the ones my sister and my father have are spots that actually are raised a little from the face-they look less like moles and more like, well, not moles. My moles, which I once ventured to call freckles (I was derisively corrected on that one) are now appearing on my feet, my stomach and my back.

Now if this does mean that I will get diabetes, I am half-way ok with that. My brother was diagnosed with it at a young age (the more serious one) and so I was around it enough to know that it is a condition one can live with-also my sister and dad have the adult onset versions. I am not blood-related to any of these people because I was adopted but there is no knowing for sure that it’s not also in my genetics as well. So ok, if that happens, ok. No problems. Of course I would prefer to stay perfectly healthy my whole life and die peacefully in my sleep at the age of 120.

But the other thing I have been thinking about is of course, skin cancer. I have been spending the last few summers in the sun quite a lot, 3 to 4 days a week I am at the beach playing volleyball. So it would make sense that my body is reacting to that exposure. Now, I am wearing sunscreen but it was never a priority when I was younger, and I have not been too aggressive about it even now…..I don’t know. I am just speculating. It’s not really a fun speculation either. I loved my spots and now I am inclined not to love them.
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OK. I just did some reading. My moles are apparently not a huge cause for concern because they are small, but I think the fact they are increasing is a testament to the amount of time I have spent in the sun these last couple of years.

So this is all that remains left to say about this:
You are SPOTS. I hear you ROAR. I will wear LOTS of sunscreens this year and from here on out. Keeping my skin healthy safe and protected. All righty then.