I’ve been thinking about scars recently.
Perhaps because as my legs heal I am almost certain the gash, on one, will leave a mark. My legs are already pretty beaten up, from falling off bikes and skates as a kid, and tearing my MCL a few times…and that doesn’t bother me. Its my other two scars that do.
My appendix scar is something I’ve never really been able to get passed. Probably because the doctor botched it a bit, so its not as flush as it should be and I can’t handle people touching it. Even the slightest touch. I squirm.
The other is one on my right cheekbone. Its small, and with makeup I can get it to disappear slightly. Its probably only noticeable in the right light and if you’re looking for it, but I know its there. I think this one bothers me because of how it happened – I walked into the overhanging flap on a dumpster. I am the epitome of grace.
Anyway, not sure where I’m going with this. Perhaps our skin helps to tell our story. That’s how I feel about tattoos, which really are only chosen scars.
Have any scars and stories to share?