I once heard it said that scars are just tattoos with better stories. I’d agree with that. They’re more real, more authentic . Not that tattoos don’t have good stories. I’ve heard some great ones, some funny ones, some sad ones. But for genuine authenticity, you can’t beat a scar. You get to choose a tattoo, choose how that memory or that story will be represented. Not so with scars, you get the reminder that you get, crooked, deep, pale, thin, you don’t get to place a custom order.
I’ve grown fond of my scars. They tell my life’s stories, authentic stories. I know there are scars that are never seen. Emotional scars that we all bear, but I’m talking about the hard core, torn flesh scars.
I carry many scars. Like old memories, each one tells a story of the lessons I’ve learned.
The four inch cat scratch that laid the wrist bone bare, reminds me to stay out of fights that aren’t my own.
The star shaped scar from the bicycle chain reminds me to keep my eyes on the road.
The thin line at the base of my throat tells me live fully every day, because you just never know what tomorrow holds.
The eight inch twin scars on my knees say louder than words can ever say, “just keep moving forward, getting stronger every day.”
You see, they may not be pretty, but they are authentic.