• Various/Onna Carr

The Story behind the Scars

Updated: Sep 9

"She is a quietness that comes to you in a world with too much noise.

She is a word that holds an entire conversation.

She is a patience that waited years to be free.

She is a collected confidence of error and success.

She is light on her darkest hours.

She is the meeting place of observation, logic, and kindness.

She is a quiet beauty that speaks for itself.

She is where justice, humor, and love mingle into an essence all their own.

She is fragile and strong.

She is my sister."


"Sister," by B Hope

Scars brought to mind this poem a friend of mine once wrote for their sister, which I really liked. This poem was meant to discuss the bonds of siblings, but can be applied somewhat to the scars in our lives. Scars are the quiet reminders of what we have experienced--the beauty marks of a life that has been not been unscathed, holders of entire conversations on the places we have been, the people/things we have known, and the things that have happened "in medias res" (in the midst of things).

I have two large scars on my left knee. One that I got when coming around the corner of my childhood house on my bike and snagging my leg on the gutter spout and another I got running on the sandy beach of the Pourdre River about 6 years later. I also have loss of hearing in my left ear that fluctuates due to a neurological condition from a head injury as a young child, but no visible scars from the incident. For years I tried to only wear pedal pushers or longer shorts and skirts and dresses to hide my scars, and I tried to compensate for my hearing issues.

When I turned thirty, I felt as though finally I fit into the self that I am, and I realized that my scars are a part of who I am. So after gaining the confidence of error and success and realizing that the meeting place of observation, logic, and kindness to myself involved not hiding my scars and my hearing loss, I decided it was OK if someone saw that I had marks on my knee and if I wore a visible hearing aid on occasion so that I could better hear those around me without having them on my right side or in front of me, where I could follow their lips as well as their words because those scars and the hearing loss have waited years to be free, and it was finally time.

We are all fragile and strong, a compilation of all things within us, and that is what makes us who we are, scars and all.

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