What You're Born With

My child asked what it was.

The dark patch on my shoulder blade.

I was drying off after a shower,

back to the mirror,

and she pointed. She wanted to know

what that brown spot was,

that mark I've had my whole life

and never really thought about.

I told her it was a birthmark.

She asked if it hurt.

I said no.

She asked why I had it.

I didn't know how to say

that some things are just there,

that you're born with them,

that they're not there for a reason.

That they just are.

She went back to whatever she was doing.

But now when I get out of the shower,

I look at it differently.

It's not mine anymore.

It's a thing on my body.

A thing that can be noticed.

A thing that someone else saw.

Before, it was just part of me.

Now it's a mark.

Now I see it the way

a stranger would see it.

I can't unknow that.