My name is Stephanie and my son Roman was born with a Congenital Melanocytic Nevi (CMN) on his forehead, which is a type of birthmark. Roman is six now, and he’s a happy, bubbly kid who absolutely loves school. He’s really academic, always eager to come home and tell me every detail of what he’s learnt that day – from phonics to maths.
Roman adapted perfectly when he started school. He’s confident and never lets his visible difference stop him from making friends, taking part and doing exactly what he wants to do. I knew he’d be fine, but as a parent I still felt apprehensive about whether he’d integrate ok. Before he started, I spoke with the teacher, and we decided to raise awareness about CMNs by sharing Roman’s story in the school newsletter. I also provided leaflets to help others understand that Roman is just like any other child, with a visible difference that’s only a small part of who he is. I continue to do this every year, though by now, Roman’s classmates know him for who he truly is.
While the season brings joy, it can also bring unwelcome attention that’s hard to navigate.
Roman still gets curious questions, but we’ve always been open about his birthmark. I recently watched him handle a situation with such certainty at the park. A child pointed at his face and asked, “What’s that?” Roman simply replied, “It’s a birthmark,” and went on playing. It made me so proud.
But not every encounter is as smooth. Last year, we visited Santa, and when he noticed Roman’s birthmark, he asked, “What’s that, then?” I let Roman answer, trusting him to speak confidently about his difference. Santa asked “is it the type of birthmark to fade over time? When I explained that Roman’s birthmark doesn’t change in size, Santa said, “Oh, that’s a shame.” I was taken aback. Santa is supposed to be a caring, magical figure in my kids’ lives. I immediately corrected him: “No, it’s not a shame – it’s just the way he is. It’s what makes him unique.” Roman didn’t seem to notice, but I couldn’t help but think that if I were a new mum, this comment might have shaken my confidence and ruined the whole experience. I wouldn’t want Roman to feel any less special because of how others react.
Romeo loves his birthmark, and Stephanie is proud that he is always authentically himself.
This year, I’d like to ask everyone to remember to be kind and understanding towards new parents with children who have visible differences. While the season brings joy, it can also bring unwelcome attention that’s hard to navigate. A little compassion and thoughtfulness can go a long way in making these families feel supported and celebrated for who they are. Let’s spread kindness and help everyone embrace their uniqueness, especially during the holidays.
Roman loves his birthmark and tells me so regularly, saying things like: “It makes me so special and unique.”
I’ve always made sure to reinforce this positive outlook. I like to help him navigate questions and build his confidence further, by asking him what he’d do if someone asked him about his birthmark, or said that they didn’t want to play with him because of his birthmark. He always says: “That’s okay. I have lots of other friends who like me and my birthmark.”
We cherish Christmas as a family. Roman is already excited about decorating the tree, leaving cookies for Santa, and spending time with loved ones. My family has been a great support, especially when in new environment or when faced with others staring or making comments. Together we are a lot stronger and it helps that Roman is authentically himself, as he should be!
Christmas can bring challenges for many families but for us it’s a happy time, we love the season and all the joy it brings. With each passing year, I find myself even prouder of the confident, unique boy Roman is becoming.
