Don't hide your scars

     This thought has been rolling around in my head for a week, ever since a conversation I had with a friend about her physical scars. She was talking about her internal debate over whether or not to cover them with tattoos. But the same thought can apply to emotional scars, as well. We all have them. Some people hide them, while others wear them proudly as a badge of honor.

     Think about it. Everything in your past made you who you are. A scar is a reminder that you survived something. There was a cut or wound so deep, so severe, that your body couldn't heal easily, and now you have a permanent reminder. Bad decisions lead to mistakes, the consequences of which can last a lifetime. But no matter what happens, every experience shapes your life.

     I have a scar on my forehead from the time I fell off a pair of platform shoes. It needed stitches. It was horrible when it happened. I was seven years old. But I learned that candy will still be there if I take my time. There is no need to rush for things that are not that important. I have a scar across my index finger that I got when slicing a bagel I was holding in my hand. I learned that kitchen knives are sharp. Sometimes I see these scars and remember the pain I felt, and see them ad victories. I didn't die from the massive blood loss. I have surgical scars. I survived extreme pain. Every mark left on your body is a reminder of something that happened. They are once upon a times that allow you to tell your stories.

     And then there are emotional scars. These are deeper and more painful, as well as harder for people to see. These are the failed relationships, the harsh words that were said, the hateful things that have been done to you. These are hearing your parents scream at each other when you are too young to understand that it's not your fault. These are the memories of a funeral for someone who died before you could say good-bye. These are the friendships shattered by anger-fueled words uttered without thought.

     Your scars are the lasting pieces of the things that made you who you are today. You can hide them, cover them up, or have surgery to eliminate them. But you can't escape from your past. If you could undo your mistakes, would you still learn from them? Think of the many ways that scars allow you to connect to another human being. I remember asking a former lover where he got each scar I found on his body. It was an amazing way to get to know the little moments in a person's past, allowing them to remember things they don't often think about.
     I know I keep repeating about how your scars are what made you. But the thought just won't settle down in my mind. Every mark on my body, every personality quirk I've developed as reaction to something, these are who I am. If I am to love myself, I need to love all of me, not just the "pretty" parts. I'm trying. Sometimes it's hard, because sometimes the scars still ache. But that's why I write this.
     I hope my friend decides not to cover her scars. I know why they are there. They show the strength she has to survive what put them there. They are part of what make her a beautiful person. And so do mine. So do yours.

     Today's knitting update: I haven't been doing much. I've gotten some work done on P's Tarot Bag. I worked perhaps ten rows on the Random Baby Blanket. Stress at home has kept me from wanting to play with yarn. I'm afraid I'll take my aggression out on projects that are supposed to be made with love. I don't want to talk about that right now.