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.

Running with it anyway

     As I said in the last post, I have become very interested in head covering. I still don't know why I feel compelled to do this, but rather than stew over the why, I decided to listen to the little voice in my head, and just go with it. The reason will show itself eventually. But on day three, I'm excited to see what will happen.

     I made my decision on Saturday.  And only an hour before a friend picked me up to go out. When I told the friends I was out with what I was doing, I got all positive responses. This encouraged me and solidified my decision. So here's what I've come up with so far: I will cover my head with something any time I leave my house, except for when I go to work. I will try to keep covered at home, but I won't stress about it at this point. After all, my home is my home. Where else can I be at my most comfortable? 

     I have a few bandannas I have acquired over the years. I will stick to those for about a month to see if I can actually commit to this. If at the end of May, I am still covering, I will invest in a few nicer scarves and move on from there. I will wait till I am solidly and permanently committed to head covering before discussing my religious position at work. We are not allowed any kind of head-scarf or hats except for medical/religious reasons. I will eventually have to explain a very unusual spiritual call to a very Judeo-Christian establishment. I am willing to make that stand, but not until it's worth it. Why make a huge fuss over something that I might change my mind about as soon as the battle is over?

     I will admit, I felt a little thrill of doing something different when I went to the grocery store this morning. Southside is a neighborhood where you can see almost anything, but I think that head covering is still uncommon enough that I will probably be noticed for a while, until it becomes my normal. I certainly felt unusual walking down the street. It wasn't shame. It wasn't pride. The closest thing I can think of is a type of anxiety, like I was almost waiting for someone to challenge me, or to tell me it didn't look right.

     Knitting update for the day: Random Baby Blanket (that I supposedly started for the Selfish Knitters and Crocheters group Knit-A-Long "April Showers") is making slow but steady progress. I'll have it done before anyone I know has a baby! I still haven't cut more fringe for Midsummer Night's Shawl. I am disappointed in myself for not sitting down to finish it, but I just don't want to. Without any outside motivation, I'm afraid the shawl may sit in limbo until right before Anthrocon. 

     Tomorrow is May 1st. The SKC forum Knit-A-Long theme is "May Flowers" and I will finally force myself to make P her bamboo/silk Tarot bag. I've had the yarn since Christmas, but  since we couldn't pick a pattern, I was letting myself be lazy. She's going to get her bag in simple stockinette so I can participate in the KAL. Bamboo is plant, even if the silk isn't. Although, silkworms do eat plant material, so there.... :P

Living the life I have

     I realize that my posts are quickly becoming more and more sporadic, but I have a very good reason. I've actually been living my life, rather than talking about living. I'm having a great time hosting our monthly furry parties. This last one was something special.

     We had between 30 and 40 people show up at our apartment on Friday the 13th. I'm just lucky that they all didn't feel the need to spend the night as was expected. I got to meet so many people that I talk to online, as well as a few completely new people.

     That Saturday, I spent much of the day hanging out with a few of the people who stayed after breakfast. As an added bonus, it was a group of girls who stayed. It's been too long since I hung out with a group of women. Nothing really special happened other than a feeling of closeness and camaraderie.

     The other thing I've been doing a lot of is knitting. And I do mean a lot. I passed the halfway point on the purple camouflage shawl I'm knitting for my sister. I'm still not positive about the dimensions I've set, but it's a little too late. Besides, it's already using up more yarn than I'd allotted for it. I'm now debating fringe vs. border. I'm leaning towards a purple fringe, but I won't know till I get enough yarn to finish the shawl. No sense planning the finishing touches till I've actually gotten that far!

     Now, I'm off to do more laundry, since the cat was tunneling through my blankets last night.

Why do I do this? Answers would be helpful.

     I was thinking the other day about why people blog, and why people read blogs. That was too big of an idea for my pitiful little mind to fathom. So then I started wondering why I decided to start this blog, and whether people would really care what I had to say. The first part of this is all I could legitimately answer. I need to write to sort out how I feel about a lot of things. Because if I don't I worry that my brain might explode, or I might just fail to cope with things that may or may not be important. I don't know for certain why anyone would want to read what I have to say, other than the idea that perhaps they are, or have been, in a similar situation at some point.

     I was in a toxic and unhealthy marriage. I left it less than 4 months ago. After five years of marriage and 3 years of dating, I was told many things that made me feel like less than a whole and valuable person. I am only just beginning to realize how warped my thought process has become.

     I have estranged myself from my family. This is mostly an effect from the last eight years. But I let it happen. I don't know how to rebuild these relationships, but it will happen eventually. One family member at a time, I am beginning to reach out and try.

     I have a sister. She is my only sibling, and she has lupus. We always love each other, but we don't always like each other. But her diagnosis with a chronic and life threatening disease has brought us closer than we have in years.

     I feel alone a lot of the time. After eight years with my ex-husband, I got used to having someone to talk to almost any time. He didn't often listen, or even care, but he was there. Friends aren't obligated to listen to your constant whining. After a while, they will stop coming around. I don't have to pretend to be happy all the time, but I need an outlet for all these feelings.

     Don't get me wrong. I am not a ball of angst and depression. I do have plenty of good times. I love that I learned to knit. Showing off all the things that I've made gives me such a feeling of pride and accomplishment. I know people who are jealous of my ability. I enjoy helping friends who are knitters. Knitting takes up a lot of my time these days and not just because of the holidays.

     I guess I've babbled enough for now. I would appreciate anyone telling me whether they really want me to keep babbling at them. Am I doing any good for anyone other than myself?