So since I was small I have been clumsy. I was always covered in bruises, bashes and scrapes.
I still am clumsy, and now I have other scars accumulated. Some from ballet, some from accidents and others from a different me.
Some have faded, my foot that got crushed as a child, those scars have faded and only appear now when cold or very hot. The scar under my arm running down my rib cage has faded slightly but still very present and will be for life.
My knee injury, that scar is fading, slowly over the years, but will still fade till it’s a silver line.
The ones on my thighs, chest, ribs and back of knees. They are no longer scars just dents on my skin, often mistaken for stretch marks. It’s a blessing when someone says a stretch mark, I don’t need explain them and for them to classify straight away.
The ones on my heart they are what hurt me more. So many, as you get older, the more scars accumulate, however the fresh ones fade to become distant memories, seen with slight loathing but not the intense fear and anger on the new ones.
But what do they show me? They don’t show that I’m different to anyone else. We all have scars internally and externally. We all have flaws but the one thing that sets us apart is that each scar on our body is singular to you. Some might equal strength, that as they fade you show that you have made it. That you can keep going.
Others show pain and a disability but again you show you have managed to get through it even with that weighing you down.
Every scar shows you have come through something. A scar is a healing point not a fresh wound.
Show that you can keep going, let them fade. You’re healing now. You did well.