Mole

I have a mole on my left cheek. It's small, round, and brown. I've had it since I was born, and it's always been a part of me. I don't even notice it most of the time.
But sometimes, people point it out. They'll say, "Oh, you have a mole on your face." Or, "What's that on your cheek?" It's usually not a big deal, but sometimes it makes me feel self-conscious.
I remember one time when I was in elementary school, a boy in my class teased me about my mole. He called me "Mole Face" and made fun of me for it. I was so embarrassed that I cried.
I went home and cried to my mom, and she told me that my mole was beautiful. She said that it was a part of me, and that I should be proud of it.
I didn't believe her at first, but over time I started to see my mole in a different light. I realized that it was something that made me unique. It was a part of what made me, me.
Now, I don't mind when people point out my mole. I know that it's a part of me, and I'm proud of it.
In fact, I think my mole is pretty cool. It's a reminder of my childhood, and it's a part of who I am. I wouldn't trade it for the world.