Scars

We all have scars on our body, most of them have a memory attached. Some are funny, some mischievous and some are painful.
But that’s the point of a scar really isn’t it- a reminder of something that happened. A snapshot in your life when something happened to you. I look at the scars covering my body and I am instantly drawn back to different snapshots in my childhood.
The scars across my left knee. Reminders of a carefree time of being spun too fast by a friend on a roundabout. Of being picked up and spun round in the air by a friend at school. It never entered into my head that it was a dangerous thing. Nothing alerted me to the pain and tears that would follow that exhilaration. But now, looking back, my heart in my throat waiting for that fall. That pain and the tears that fell. The soothing of my mum cleaning away the debris and dirt. Wiping my tears and helping me to think of something other than the pain.
My scars across my face and on my scalp. Many who know me, say they wouldn’t notice they are there. But to me, they stare me in the face every single day, with a chilling reminder of the day I was in a car crash. It reminds me to always wear my seat belt. That ‘just down the road’ would have cost a dear friend her life if she had gotten in the car that rainy stormy night. I run my fingers over them every day. A reminder. My war wounds.
Before a reminder, there’s a scar. Before a scar there’s a wound. A wound that takes time and love and healing before your body can do its thing and change it into a scar. Into a reminder.
Each scar is a pain related memory etched into the skin. A snapshot of what not to do next time.
So why are the scars inside our body any different? Is it the fact that we cannot see them that stops us from accepting they are there and with them they have pain related memories too? Every hurtful word, loss, betrayal or heartache creates a wound. One that takes love and time and patience and support and healing to form a scar. That scar fades in time but it is still there, just as real as the scars on my face that carry with them the reminder. The reminder of the pain and sorrow and upset that it caused me at the time.
I have many war wounds. They remind me. They teach me. And with each one I receive, I learn about myself. I grow stronger and I survive. I survive. The pain fades. The hurt dissipates. But the scar remains as a little piece of the puzzle that makes me, me.
Embrace all of you. Every lump, every bump. Every scar. For those are the pieces of you that serve to remind you that you are alive, you will heal and the pain will lessen. Warriors are proud of their scars. They show survival. Be proud. Stand tall and be a little bit wild. There is only one of you and you are a survivor.

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