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I used to believe that old people were actually young people and they just spent way to long in the bath and their skin had gone all wrinkle like... hence why I always had 3min baths.
When I was a little girl, I used to believe God left me in the oven longer then my brother and sister. I was the middle of three kids. My brother and sister had blonde hair and blue eyes. I however had caramel colored skin with brown hair and green eyes. When I asked my Mom why I looked different, she told me God left me in the oven longer that was why my skin was darker. She also told me that my eyes where green because some of the color from a rainbow fell into my eyes on the day I was born.
I believed that if you moved around a lot while sitting on your beachtowel at the beach, you were more likely to get sunburned. Probably as a result of my mother saying something like "sit still or you'll get a sunburn" without realizing she said it or realizing I picked up on it. I believed this well into my teens when my friends finally caught on and laughed at me.
I thought if you get gangrene your skin turns green
I thought that the spf (sun protection factor) on sunblock was what percentage of the sun it blocked out. I figured if you were wearing 100 spf sunblock you would be immune to sunburns
I used to think only White people could get sunburned!
I remember when I was young my grandmother said don't turn the water on to hot or I would scaled myself. I thought by this that it would be so hot my skin would melt off and there would be nothing left but bones
I used to believe that because I had no birthmarks on my body, I was a robot. I would sit there looking and looking for birthmarks, and then cry when I couldn't find any because I didn't want to be a robot.
I used to believe the blue veins in my wrists was marker, so I would always scrub really hard to get them off when I washed my hands.
My parents and I are white. But, I have a mole completely covering my belly button. I always told my parents that I was half black. My mom would say..."yes...you are."(sarcastically) But I believed it for a long time!
I used to believe that deodorant stung the skin of kids too young to need it.
When I was younger, I used to believe that gremlins and fairies would come into my room while I was sleeping and melt chocolate chips on my face which explained my freckles.
When I was in upper elementary school I would always want to use my moms shower so that I could use her Victoria Secret body wash that smelt amazing. I read the bottle and noticed it said "for external use only" for the longest time I believed this meant "for eternal use only". I stopped using her body wash in fear that I would not be able to use it eternally...I was not sure what would happen if I didn't use it forever but I was not about to find out!
I was told that the skin of a man renews itself seven times during life. When having a bath, I was afraid of washing "too strong" as I had the feeling that this was removing one of the seven skins and I thought I would not have enough skins for an entire life.
My daughter belived that she was getting old because she had brown spots (freckles) like an old banana
When I was little, I thought bruises were sacks of pain underneath the skin, and the only way to get rid of them was to release all the pain. To release the pain, I pressed on my bruises. I had a lot of bruises.
I used to believe that my sister had drawn a birth mark on my other sisters back with an eyebrow pencil. I spent years trying to wash it off in the tub. We still laugh about it.
I believed that if a white person touched a black person (or vice versa), they both would switch skin colors.
When I was little my grandfather had a wart on his thumb. He called it a planters wart. I asked him why and he said that if you play outside and don't wash your hands then a little seed would take root in your skin and grow a plant that would sprout into a little tree. Hygene got better for me but I got obsessive-compulsive about skin.
I used to believe that my freckle on my hand was because I drew on my hand with a permanent marker. When i was about 7 or 8 i said to my mom how do i wash this marker off she then corrected me.
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