Friday, September 03, 2010

Forever Marked


I have many scars on my body. One girl even went so far as to tell me she felt like she was going to throw up after looking at my leg, even though there was no blood or anything.

I look at them as something beautiful. They signify that I've survived. No, I didn't always look at it that way. As a young girl, I didn't think anyone could ever love me with all of my issues. If I'm being honest, sometimes I still feel that way. I know that love isn't determined by what's on the outside, but you would be surprised at how society is towards people like me.


But, as I was going in for my spinal fusion surgery, something changed. I was seventeen years old. I was no longer a scared nine year old girl. I knew what I had to do. "Let's go add another scar to my collection!" I told my Granny with a laugh.

We all have scars. Some of us have scars on the inside that run deep. Just because others can't see them doesn't mean the pain isn't there. You survived, too. Scars signify the wound has healed up.

The recovery process isn't easy. Some days are better than others, but after each surgery, there was one thing that kept me going: The end goal. At the end of of each physical therapy appointment, I could look back and see my progress. Other times, I felt as if I hadn't made any, but the outcome was what I kept in my sights. When my leg wouldn't bend, I pictured myself walking with ease. I willed myself to look past the pain of the moment.

Let's embrace our scars and be thankful we are not there anymore.

2 comments:

Sybil Sanders said...

You are loved by so many people. You are just amazing with always a postive attitude. People who are rude are not hurting anyone but themselves and they have nothing better to do than be rude. Just pray for them.

tam7777 said...

Great post. Just like the deer hunter, we should keep the outcome the main focus. Jesus did the same thing, he knew what lay ahead for him. The outcome was more important than the few scars he had. We should do the same.

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