Sometimes, I think the human race gets married so we can say things to each other like, “Does this mole look weird to you?”
We truly rely on each other to scratch the absurd area that exists just below and directly between the two shoulder blades. We need one another to verify whether or not an itchy skin imperfection is a simple mosquito bite or a flesh eating bacteria. We plea for our partner to tell us if our tongue cracks mean whether or not we have an overactive small intestine. We ask each other to webmd our odd chest cough that is coupled with a sneeze and ankle swelling.
We yearn for care. We beg to trust.
We couple up. Partner off. We want to be seen.
Recently, I asked my husband if an odd marking I had on my face was increasing in size, changing in color, slightly raised.
In other words, “Does this mole look weird to you?”
He assured me it was fine, but looked at it with a gaze so intense I thought he might bore a hole in the side of my head. He told me he would keep an eye out.
And he did. And I did.
And it got bigger, and I got more scared. And he validated my feelings, my situation, and my truth.
Doctor. Removed. Checked. All clear. Close call.
I am very aware that I am very lucky (most of my family hasn’t been).
Tears and hugs and strength and mortality.
I see him and he sees me.
This prompts us to look at ourselves, to look at each other closely, more clearly. Let’s LOOK at each other. Each moment, each dream, each truth.
We have our ugly bits, our jiggly, wobbly, guarded, deep, dark bits. Let’s be brave and show each other.
Do you see what I see? Do you see me?
I want to be seen. I think we all do. That why we keep asking, begging, yearning, needing each other- weird moles and all.