For I love scars

Once you have a scar, it is yours for life. This is what American Institute of DermatoImagelogy has to say. They say that it is only when your skin is damaged to the dermal level, and that the body healed the wound that the scars formed and yes; no abandonment issues there, scars are here to stay! Scars, caused by myriad things, it might have been your fault or not, scars do not really care, but they do not ditch you, they remember every little thing; every single detail of that episode. Scars are marks that life leaves on us; I am not sure if they are ugly all the time but they are disturbing for sure. They remember and then remind you of everything.

Well, that is about scars. The scars, which are visible, which can be seen by others, the ones who actually pay attention to you; and then there are the ones you cannot ignore though their impact may have lessened. There is this other kind also, the ones scary and vivid; having the security of a mask, hidden so deep inside your soul that even your instincts cannot reach it anymore. I remember proudly showing everyone the scars as a child. As I wish I were the same; a child, who loved flaunting her scars, someone who thought they were medals, a token of having done something adventurous, a souvenir of having been to a different place, both literally and figuratively.

I have no clue since when I started hiding the scars, I do not remember since when getting hurt became a crime. I surely have reacted that way most of the times, as if I am covering up a crime by blanketing the hurt and the mistakes. Not to say that I have learnt a lot from them, I think all I have done diverge and refuse to acknowledge them. I assure you that nobody likes to be neglected, it just worsens things. Scars are no exception. I do not remember any scars for this reason and on the contrary, I have known a few of my friends to hold on to them, caress them all the time and not give them chance to heal. They all remember the deep wounds and the scars embossed on their body and soul like it was yesterday. They can read it like a book, a rote learnt book at that so though it is all in the memory, it never was of any use or significance. There are people who have accepted it all and moved on, healed many inscrutable wounds. They are very few in number and acceptance has not necessarily lead them to a greater good, it has altered them to a degree that they can barely recognize themselves. None of these is not a feasible options, I refuse to be like this. I refuse to grow up precisely for this reason.

That is why, I want to be a child again. Not childish but childlike, to learn and to grow and at the same time, keep that zest for life alive while being me. I love scars, and more than I did before.


I think

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