On the girl’s brown legs, there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty, too, and I ask you right here, please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because, take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means I survived. 

                                           Little Bee by Chris Cleave

This had me thinking about the scars that we carry with us. We all experience hurt, trauma, challenges, and disappointments- that is just part of the human experience. 

Last night, I was triggered by the person who has caused the most harm to me- I find it appalling that the terrible damage caused by their actions was not enough. It is a constant roller coaster fueled by the need to control the now uncontrollable, that being me. I do not have a ticket for that rollercoaster anymore, and I am the conductor of my own ride. So, the attempt to control is futile.

It begs the question, how did I allow it for so long? Now, I’m like a wild animal, ready to attack at the first sign of trouble. I know the motivation is control. It always had been. However, now, I find it pathetic because I have moved on. I do not recognize my old self, the person who was just so sickly nice. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, my mouth, oh my mouth… it gets me in trouble. The thing is, I have been silenced, not silent, but silenced for a long time, and as I have spoken about being the nice girl, well, she frankly no longer exists- actually, let me clarify, she does not exist with this person. 

Someone said to me, you’re like a dog that has been abused for so long, and now any movement from this person you attack because you know the irreparable damage they are capable of. And perhaps his assessment is right. 

Though those scars do not define me, they are there now, part of me, part of my story, my history, and even, in some respects, my future. 

Each scar has taught me a lesson. Each scar has made me stronger, wiser, and more appreciative that not everyone leaves scars. Not everyone is a predator, an emotional vacuum, or is damaged by darkness. 

I know this because I know good people. I see kindness, love, and loyalty. I live it. I experience it. I am partnered up with someone who has taught me it and has proven over and over that not everyone is going to leave a scar. 

So, I have hope. And I know that for a time, I thought those scars poisoned my soul, but I was wrong. They didn’t. 

They are only there to remind me how far I have come. Where I never want to be again, and how grateful I am that I survived despite the scar maker.  

However, I am aware of my flaws. I need to do better. Because although I didn’t put those scars on myself, they are mine to own. Mine to nurture, mine to embrace, mine to celebrate- because I survived. So, as the passage above says, 

“We must see all scars as beauty.” It means we survived.   

Happy Monday,

Write On, Friends,

DLL