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	<title>WIRL Project &#187; Emily Kay</title>
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	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
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		<title>My Skin Won&#8217;t Stop Me</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/my-skin-wont-stop-me-6/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/my-skin-wont-stop-me-6/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 13 Apr 2015 09:00:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Emily Kay]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Style/Beauty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beauty mark]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[calling card]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mole]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[My Skin Won't Stop Me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Skin]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[&#160; My MOLE is only skin deep. My skin won&#8217;t stop me because it does not define me or who I am. As a child growing up, we all saw witches in the movies. They were old, ugly women with long hair and a GIANT MOLE, most of the time, on their nose or somewhere on their face. Or we all laughed seeing Austin Powers in Goldmemeber making fun of Fred Savage&#8216;s character &#8220;the mole&#8221;, because he had a large mole on his face. The MOLE was usually dark brown or black in color with hair on it. YUCK!! As a baby, I did not have a mole, but a tiny little dot on the right cheek of my face. Just the size of a pin prick. Nothing was ever said about it but as I grew, it grew. I remember the first time my MOLE was brought to my attention. I was in first grade and in line to go to lunch with my fellow classmate. A boy, who will remain nameless, but I will never forget, said to me in front of everyone&#8230;&#8221;Why don&#8217;t you pay a rat a quarter and have it chew that thing off your face!!!&#8221; At first I did not know what he was talking about. I went to the restroom, looked in the mirror and BAM&#8230;there it was! A MOLE! I didn&#8217;t know how it got there or why it was there, but this boy told what seemed like the whole world about it and I did not like that. Over the years, I used everything to try to get rid of it. Facial acids, hemorrhoid creams, buffing pads, make-up or just about anything to try and make it disappear. I went to several doctors and they told me &#8220;It is just a jelly-mole&#8221; or &#8220;There is nothing we can do for it&#8221; or &#8220;We can shave it down but that is going to leave a bad scar.&#8221; None of those &#8220;explanations&#8221; satisfied me. I remember one time going to my allergist because I was having major issues, and all he kept saying to me is how he would love to cut that MOLE off my face. How does allergies relate to my MOLE??? I never went back to see him again! A friend, her daughter, and I were heading to the mountains to snow-tube. It was an amazing day. Her daughter, I think was 7 or 8 at the time, turns to me and says: &#8220;Why is their a nipple on your face?&#8221; Her mother, mortified, and I was just laughing because how creative a young mind can be and how children have no filter. I told her that it was a MOLE. She asked if she had moles and her mother told her yes, and now eat your powdered donuts and drink your chocolate milk. The car was silent and I thought, if this little girl thinks I have a nipple on my face, what does the rest of the world think? A year later I decided to do something for myself. I decided to have some Boudoir photos taken. I went and got a spray tan, nails were polished, hair was big and curly, make-up was perfect, and felt like a million buck in my new black Victoria Secret black panties! I let it all out! It was amazing and freeing! That night I got the proofs and I loved them all but could only pick out three images to have them touched-up. After looking at them, I narrowed it down to final three pictures. I emailed the photographer telling him which ones and one week later I received an email from him with the final product. THERE THEY WERE!!!!!!!! JUST AMAZING!!!! DAMN, I LOOK HOT!!!! But wait&#8230;..where is my MOLE??? The photographer air brushed it off. The photographer thought that I didn&#8217;t want the MOLE in my photos and he thought I would look better without it. Well, WHO THE HELL WAS HE????? That was my MOLE&#8230;that is who I am! That MOLE is mine. Who was he to tell me how I would look better. I was beyond offended. Now when I look at those pictures I don&#8217;t see me. I see a person without her personality, without her beauty mark, without her MOLE. I know my MOLE does not define me as a person but it is apart of me. I guess it is my &#8220;calling-card&#8221;. I have grown to accept my mole because it is a part of me. It will be on my face till the day I breath my last breath&#8230; unless it is my life or the MOLE and then THE MOLE HAS GOTTA GO.]]></description>
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