Eventually, the freckles change back and the sunburn fades to reveal more freckles and forever-white skin.
In high school, all the girls tanned for prom. Months before the prom season arrived, they tanned to their hearts content hoping their white Wisconsin skin would look better for that one day. The day they danced in the dark. Ha! They all disappeared in the prom photos, but my white Wisconsin skin was glowing! I didn’t fade into the background. I couldn’t if I tried. The flash seemed to bounce off my skin. I’m not even kidding. I have a picture to prove it. I’m standing next to a classmate, her skin a nice deep and even tan. And then there was me. I laugh at the picture every time I see it. I really was white. It’s great.
When I was a young girl, I looked forward to the day where my skin would be older and finally turn brown. Skin, like many things that are better with age, is darker when it gets older. At least it is in my family. My grandmother, my parents, my great aunts and uncles all have darker skin. I guess most of them are German. I don’t really know what that has to do with anything. I just know that Swedes are pale and I’m a Swede. Swede-Norwegian to be precise. So there’s a double whammy. I’m still waiting for my German half to kick in. My dad is the only tan Scandinavian in that bunch of tan people. He works outside a lot, so that explains that.
Now I know that my skin won’t get any darker. I am careful with my freckles. I don’t want any of them to become cancer. I’ve accepted them, slowly. The freckle by my eye is my favorite. It’s unique. A beauty mark of sorts. So, to all you freckle-faces out there, you’re beautiful. Not everyone has freckles. We’re special.
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