I Spent Years Trying to Become More Attractive

A birthmark, a neck tattoo, a hair transplant, and the realization that perfection has no finish line

This is not really a story about a hair transplant or covering a huge port wine stain birthmark with a huge neck tattoo. It is a story about what happens when rejection convinces you that you are the problem.

In 2018, I tried to hide the large port wine stain birthmark on my ear and neck with a huge tattoo that stretched from my ear down my neck and across my back. A year later, I underwent a hair transplant of around 1,500 grafts to restore my hairline. Both procedures achieved exactly what they were supposed to achieve. The tattoo hid the birthmark. The hair transplant restored my hair. My confidence improved and people responded differently. Yet I kept finding new flaws to fix. That was when I started realizing that neither my birthmark nor my hair was the real issue. The real issue was that years of rejection had convinced me that I was fundamentally not enough.

The Search for What Was Wrong With Me

After constant rejection from girls, I started doubting myself. Not occasionally. Constantly. I started looking for flaws in myself.

Maybe I have a red birthmark on my left ear and it looks ugly.

Maybe I don’t have six-pack abs.

Maybe I am not six feet tall.

Maybe my English does not sound native.

Maybe my clothes are not classy enough.

Maybe my perfume is not expensive enough.

Maybe my car is not impressive enough.

Maybe it is because I have visible balding.

When you are down, low in confidence, and everything seems to be falling apart, it is easy to start doubting yourself. Especially when you do not have a good support system. You spend the whole day alone analysing yourself through a microscope, making it a mission to find every flaw in yourself and working on it.

That happened to me. And the scary part is that self-improvement slowly turns into self-rejection. You stop improving because you enjoy growth. You start improving because you believe you are broken.

The Birthmark I Tried To Hide

Long before the hair transplant, I had already tried fixing another insecurity. I have a large port wine stain birthmark on the left side of my ear and neck. One day I decided to cover the entire thing with a huge tattoo that extended from my left ear all the way down my neck and onto my back.

Initially, I thought it looked cool. I genuinely thought I had solved a huge problem with my appearance. My family was devastated.

The funny part is that they viewed the birthmark completely differently. They believed it was rare. They believed it was auspicious. They believed it made me unique. They believed it was a gift from god.

I believed it made me ugly. At the time, I thought they simply didn’t understand. Years later, I realized they understood something I didn’t.

The Tattoo Changed More Than My Appearance

Slowly, I started noticing something strange.

The tattoo was changing how people perceived me.

It was affecting job opportunities.

It was affecting dating.

It was affecting first impressions.

Visible tattoos, especially neck tattoos, carry a lot of baggage. Fair or unfair, many people associate them with gangs, crime, drugs, aggression, or instability.

I remember going to a restaurant in Portugal post surfing. The owner looked nervous and immediately asked:

“What do you want?”

I remember thinking:

Food. Why else would anyone walk into a restaurant?

But that was the moment I realized something. My tattoo was communicating a message that I was completely unaware of. People were seeing something that I wasn’t.

The same thing happened in dating. Girls would sometimes grill me like FBI agents. At first I found it annoying. Then I started understanding their perspective. Their logic was simple.

If a guy is confidently displaying a giant neck tattoo without caring what anyone thinks, he probably does not have a white-collar job.

He probably is not working in corporate.

He probably does not have a stable future.

He probably is not someone their parents would approve of.

Finding jobs became harder too. Employers make assumptions.

What if this guy turns out to be a liability?

Will we lose the ability to confront him when he is wrong?

Will he react aggressively to criticism?

Meanwhile, I am sitting there thinking:

I might be one of the biggest Mathematic and Engineering geeks you will ever meet. I have two master’s degrees. All I did during childhood was study.

Then I moved into engineering. Networking. Infrastructure. Technology. And somehow overnight I had become the scary tattoo guy. It was honestly funny. And painful. At the same time. That is the cost of trying to defy nature just to please other people.

Then Came The Hair Transplant

A few years later, I convinced myself I had found the next solution. If the tattoo solved the birthmark problem, perhaps the hair transplant would solve the dating problem. So I went ahead with it.

And honestly?

The results were good. My hair grew back. I could style it differently. My confidence improved. People responded differently. For a while, I felt great.

But eventually a question appeared:

Where does this end?

If I fix my hair, will I finally be enough? Or will I immediately find something else?

Maybe I need better clothes.

A better car.

More muscles.

A different accent.

More money.

A different face.

Because everyone appears unattractive from a certain angle.

Everyone has flaws.

Everyone has insecurities.

Everyone has areas where hair density is lower.

Everyone wishes something about themselves was different.

The finish line keeps moving.

The Real Turning Point

The biggest realization came when I stopped chasing people. When you stop chasing people, your insecurities begin to collapse. Because you are no longer trying to force an outcome. You are detached from the outcome.

You are no longer trying to convince someone to choose you. You are no longer treating every rejection as evidence that you are broken. And something beautiful happens.

The right people finally have space to enter your life. The people who genuinely like you.

The people who look past the birthmark.

Past the tattoo.

Past the hair.

Past the imperfections.

Those people stick. Because they were never attracted to a perfect version of you. They were attracted to you.

What I Would Tell Anyone Going Through This

To anyone struggling with the same thing, my advice is simple. Maximize your potential with the resources you have.

Get fit.

Learn new skills.

Travel.

Build your dream project.

Create things.

But do not spend your life trying to eliminate every perceived flaw.

Instead, put yourself in environments that genuinely excite you.

Fitness.

Dancing.

Swimming.

Yoga.

Surfing.

Bouldering.

Running.

Photography.

Anything.

I have seen people who would be considered completely average by conventional standards build amazing relationships through shared activities and interests.

Not because they became more attractive. But because they became visible to people who shared their world. They found their tribe. Because attraction often grows from shared experiences and shared interests, not from perfection.

The Lesson That Took Me Years To Learn

The truth is that a percentage of the global population already likes you.

Your job is not to become perfect.

Your job is not to eliminate every flaw.

Your job is not to win over everyone.

Your job is to place yourself where those people can find you. Your job is to walk the path that genuinely interests you and become visible to the people who share that path. You may not be spending too much time around people who reject you. You may simply be spending too much time around people who were never your people in the first place.

If you try to find relationships in bars, clubs, corporate offices, or places that define just 1% of your personality, you are playing impossible odds. You’re trying to find someone compatible based on a tiny fraction of who you really are.

I have seen people who would be considered ordinary looking by conventional standards find amazing relationships through bouldering, dancing, surfing, running, and other hobbies. Not because they suddenly became more attractive, but because they became visible to people who shared their world. A climber who improves and starts travelling for bouldering instantly has something meaningful in common with thousands of people across the globe. The same is true for dancers, surfers, runners, photographers, and countless other communities.

The reality is that at least 1% of the world’s population will naturally like you, your personality, your values, your interests, and your quirks. Your job is not to convince the remaining 99%. Your job is to walk the path that genuinely interests you and become visible to that 1%. Most people are not lonely because nobody likes them. They are lonely because they spend far too much time around people who have almost no overlap with who they really are.

And once you understand that, something remarkable happens. You stop trying to become someone else. And finally become comfortable being yourself.

Looks Can Open Doors. They Cannot Build A Home.

I am not going to pretend that looks do not matter. They do.

In places like bars, clubs, or other environments where there is very little information available about a person, appearance naturally becomes one of the few things people can judge. Good looks can create opportunities. They can start conversations. They can even help with short-term attraction and hookups.

But looks become far less important as time passes. Relationships are eventually tested by character, values, emotional maturity, resilience, trust, ambition, and how you treat other people when life gets difficult. A six-pack cannot carry a marriage. A perfect jawline cannot build trust. Great hair cannot solve loneliness.

There is also something else I have observed. If you build your entire identity around using your looks to win every interaction, every date, and every relationship, life has a funny way of humbling you. Sooner or later, you meet your match.

Someone taller.

Someone more muscular.

Someone with better hair.

Someone with blue eyes.

Someone with a more attractive face.

Someone younger.

Someone who has all the advantages you once relied upon.

And suddenly you find yourself on the other side of the equation. The same comparison game you used to judge others now starts judging you. Life has a remarkable way of reminding us that there will always be someone better looking, richer, smarter, stronger, or more successful. The people who build their identity on external advantages eventually discover how fragile those advantages are.

The people who build their identity on character, competence, purpose, kindness, humour, curiosity, and values tend to age much more gracefully.

Looks are a gift. Character is an achievement. One fades with time. The other compounds with time. And if life has taught me anything, it is that the things that compound are usually the things worth investing in.