Every Birthmark Tells a Story

It's been four years since I first shared my story and feelings of living with a large port wine birthmark. Standing on that stage was an experience that challenged me to my core. I was sharing to inspire others who may be struggling with their own self-image, it was a DEI talk, promoting the celebration of our differences. However my real fear that day was driven by something far deeper and scarier - I was trying my best to contain the weight of emotion, nerves and responsibility of starting my own journey towards self-acceptance and empowerment, to begin to really see myself for who I am.

As I stood before the audience, I channelled the energy within me, determined not to let the tears spill and to deliver my message with conviction and sincerity. It was a challenge, but one that I embraced with passion and determination, doing my best to be honest and vulnerable enough, but still holding those feelings at a safe distance - like a controlling dam holding back the potential of those all-too-familiar snotty tears.

No idea how it went down for the audience. But for me, it was the best talk I’ve ever done and ever will do.?

My journey towards self-acceptance really started that day. TBH it’s been less like a rollercoaster and more like a steady climb up a mountain, with occasional dips and detours along the way.

Vascular Birthmark Awareness Day 2023

For Vascular Birthmark Awareness Day, I’m feeling compelled to reflect and share my thoughts once again and continue my climb up the mountain.?

As a British-born Filipino woman growing up in the UK, living with a visible difference and conforming to traditional beauty standards has been a constant battle, one that I wasn’t even conscious of until after I stood on the stage that day. The pressure to fit in and be "normal" has shaped my view of myself and all my relationships with others. I’ve worked out that I often felt like I had to compensate for my perceived lack of beauty by excelling in other areas.

During my 20’s and 30’s I was acutely conscious of people seeing my birthmark, how this shaped their view of me and I made extensive efforts to cover it up. I mastered the art of summer fashion without getting my legs out. But it was always stressful, isolating (not to mention fucking hot) and made me wish for a different reality. Like, proper wish.?

This made me feel like an outsider, always battling to fit in with everyone and anyone - from strangers on the street to friends and work folk that accepted me and probably felt like they ‘knew’ me. I was always instinctively hiding this huge part of myself and in hindsight, I can see that I was living some kind of unconscious double identity. The cool, accepted me vs. the weird, unaccepted and weak.?

All the while, seeming to be living my best life, kind of.

It wasn't until I reached my late 30’s that I began to question the norms and beauty standards that have shaped my own self-image. It’s easy to know and intellectualise the fact that women are subjected to the patriarchy, constantly reducing us to our looks and how attractive we’re perceived to be - it’s another thing for oneself to actually hold that therapist’s mirror up and really look at ourselves, birthmark and all. That takes time, courage and a whole lot more. But it’s certainly doable.

Work in progress?

I’ve realised that my worth and beauty are not defined by my physical appearance, but rather by my inner qualities and experiences.?

It’s not a comfortable journey. Everywhere we look, we cannot help but absorb the narrow definition of beauty which doesn't include visible differences, leaving those of us who are different feeling alienated, disheartened and, I’m ashamed to admit, ‘less than’ (cos that would make me shallow and into my looks right?)

Despite these challenges, I have learned to embrace my uniqueness and use it as a source of strength. My birthmark is not a flaw, but rather a part of who I am. I have become more confident in my abilities and talents, recognising that my birthmark is just one aspect of my identity.

Looking back, I wish I had role models or someone to talk to about my experiences when I was younger. I know the difference it would’ve made. I'm grateful to see more people talking openly about being different, and it's led me to a career in diversity, equity, and inclusion. I want to make the world a better place for those who are different, and I hope my story can inspire others to embrace their differences and find strength in their unique qualities. Perhaps it’s why I care so passionately about making a difference - that would definitely make it all ‘worth it’ somehow. A purpose.

Keep on climbing

As the years go by and the Elaine looking back at me in the mirror is looking older, I've found myself questioning my looks once more. The thing is, with age, I’m finally starting to know that life is too short to worry about what others think of me; cliches do tend to be cliches because they are true after all.?

I may not fit into society's narrow definition of beauty, but I'm proud of who I am, birthmark and everything. I refuse to let anyone or anything dictate my worth or value. And I hope that my two teenage daughters grow to feel the same. It's time to embrace the quirks and imperfections that make me who I am and celebrate my uniqueness. After all, who wants to be like everyone else when you can be one-of-a-kind??

To anyone out there struggling to embrace their differences, especially all my birthmark crew out there, know that you are not alone. You are beautiful, worthy, and deserving of love, acceptance and anything else you want from this crazy life. If I could go back in time and visit my 15 year old self that's what I'd tell her.

Elaine dela Cruz is the Co-Founder of Coaches of Colour, Project 23 and the Equitable Coaching Foundation. Here's an article she wrote back in 2019 after getting up on that stage.