I have a freckle on my tooth.

A misshapen, light brown blob that is embedded in one of my front teeth.

People assume that it is a stain or that I hit it on something and that that part of my tooth died, but no, it’s just a freckle.

It is an imperfection that is up close and personal. I can’t hide from it; I can’t escape it. The only way to get rid of it is to get it drilled out.

But I won’t do that.

I couldn’t imagine not having this simple, small imperfection on my tooth, because that is what makes me who I am. 

When I was younger, I used to be frightful of others seeing my freckle, with the thought that they would think I am “gross” or “weird.”

But no, that was all in my head.

No one cares about my tooth freckle. It is only when I point out to someone that I have a freckle, that they even notice that it is there.

But that wasn’t what stuck with me—it was the fear.

I feared being judged. I feared being made fun of because of my imperfection. Yet, it was all in my head.

In society today, we fear that our imperfections will define us, but what we don’t realize is that we are not known for something exterior, but rather what is interior. 

People focus on the inner beauty of a person even when we don’t realize it. And yes, there will always be those ignorant people who will judge you for something, but that only means that there is something wrong with them.

When someone picks fun about something that someone is insecure about, it means that they themselves are insecure, and choose to take that out on other people.

So no, it is not you that they don’t like—it’s themselves.

I have a freckle on my tooth.

A beautiful mark has planted itself on one of my front teeth.

And no, it is not a stain, nor is it a “dead” spot. 

It is a freckle, and it is what makes me who I am.