My name is Maja. I am a 16-year-old girl living in London. I was born with CMN covering the majority of my left leg and lower parts of my waist. Due to its size, it was not possible to remove it, but I underwent major surgery when I was just a few hours old to reduce its appearance – however it is still most definitely visible. My story is about my ongoing experience of growing up with it.
When I was in primary school, my peers would ask me why my leg looked like that. I would respond proudly, “When my mum was pregnant with me, she ate too much Nutella and it landed on my leg”. This is what my mum told me to explain my leg’s appearance. I was indifferent to the way it looked. However, this would not be the case during summertime when my legs were constantly exposed: people would gawk and point, leaving me feeling angry and confused. Why couldn’t they just ask me what it was instead of relentlessly staring, completely alienating me?
Despite this, my self-confidence was barely affected. No one ever picked on me, so I never really thought twice about it. I was happy, healthy, and pleased with my self-image.
Once I started secondary school, things changed. There were so many new people surrounding me, people who weren’t aware of my condition. I was terrified to participate in PE swimming lessons as I was afraid of what people would think and say once they saw my birthmark. I decided to present my condition to my classmates prior to the lessons in hope to reassure myself. They all asked me questions, but overall seemed indifferent . Even with everyone’s support, I couldn’t help but break down on our first swimming lesson. I had a full-blown panic attack purely due to the fact that my classmates would have to see my birthmark. As stupid as this sounds or must have looked, it is a sensation of fear and shame that cannot be explained in words but only experienced. To look different to the people around you and not being able to control it was (and still is) infuriating.
Currently I am not sure how to feel about it. My doctor would always warn me about how my view on it would change during my teenage years, and she was completely right. I am definitely more shy and insecure about it now more than ever. I will do whatever I can to avoid wearing shorts, skirts, and dresses, and whenever I really must, it is all I can focus on. There is also the notorious obsession of comparison and jealousy. I constantly catch myself looking at random people in real life and on social media, wishing that my legs would look that way.
With this said, I often get told that my birthmark is beautiful and unique. I will admit that it is nice to hear, and I do see how it is beautiful in many ways and how it is completely unique to myself. On many days, I look at it and it fills me with pride: it is an incredible part of me that sets me aside from everyone else. So, when I think about the hypothetical scenario, if I had the choice to remove it, would I get it removed or keep it? I’m not sure I would remove it.
However, I am still only 16 years old with my whole life ahead of me, so my sentiments will constantly fluctuate. But for the moment I am trying my best to embrace it and not freak out every time it’s visible, because nobody actually cares! It’s a hard notion for me to remember so I try to surround myself with people who remind me that it’s true.
