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The Scars I Bear

I’ve known pain and it’s often been part of who I am. For the longest time I couldn’t recognize myself outside my pain. It often defined who I am and how I related to the people around me. I couldn’t attach my pain to the loss I had experienced as a child. When I lost my parents, it didn’t hurt as much. Not only because I was young but also because I couldn’t comprehend the effects of being orphaned at such a young age. But soon enough as I grew older, I related most of it to the loss I experienced as a child. Most of the thoughts around my head revolved around the idea that if only my parents were around, then things wouldn’t be as they were and maybe my scars would tell a different story. Doesn’t mean that it was perfect and rosy, on the contrary. Between the nosy relatives and the marital upheavals my parents faced, my life was far from perfect. But I was safe, comfortable and had a sense of belonging. Soon enough after their death, what ifs and the wishful thinking became a greater part of my dreams of brighter days. I yearned for more and the more I wanted the more life took away from me. I only retained my scars. I’d be lost without my scars as they are part of who I am. I built a home around them for they have been a loyal companion through my life’s journey. Always there with me and at times inviting its extended family to join the party. The more the merrier they say.

My scars though many and glaring to the eyes, with some hidden and others laying bare for all sundry to see are very important. Most people think that with a glance they can tell my story and define who I am as a person, but it isn’t that easy. Behind the scars is pain that only I can understand. I try to hide some so that I can seek and find my true self, but I keep crawling back to the solace that I find in the scars that I bear. They remind me that I survived my deepest wounds, and all the damage and pain life has inflicted on me and the strength and resilience I possess within. I have known pain as much as I have known loss and it's always left me anticipating when the rug will be pulled from under my feet. I often wonder this time will the scars be hidden, or will they be exposed, and will I survive this too or is it the straw that will break this camel’s back? As I try to find myself yet again, I don’t want to hide behind my scars anymore. I am allowing myself to be found and to dream of a life different from what I have known. I refuse to live in fear and let my scars deserve me for I am more, and I represent more than just my scars.

I will boldly wear my scars as they will always be part of who I am, but I take back my power and they will not define me. I will take free falls and trust that I will land in safe hands and If I get another scar in the process, I will boldly wear it and try once more. I choose faith, I choose to trust and above all I am choosing not to let my scars limit me. They will always tell my life’s story and I will not pretend that they don’t exist. My scars are part of who I am, but they won’t define what I will become next. They will be the place where light, strength and hope enter me instead.

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