Scars

I look in the mirror.

Scars.

A line on my face from the day I ran into a willow branch when I was 7.

Scars.

Bobbly lumps on my knee from when I fell and broke my arm when I was 9.

Scars.

A misshapen oval on my wrist from ironing when I was 14.

Scars.

A jagged line on my neck from curling my hair when I was 23.

Scars.

Not always visible.

Scars.

Deep within.

Scars.

Coursing through my veins.

Scars.

...

Not all scars are visible. This resonated with me as I was doing my makeup this morning. I brushed my powder brush over the scar on my face and paused, remembering when it happened. But, some scars are invisible. Effecting your every move and thought. Effecting how you interact with others, trust others, and treat yourself.

Scars from years of various events remain part of us. Some so small and barely significant that we hardly notice them. Some larger and deeper. So cut in, that we can't rid them of us day in and day out.

We see scars on the skin from physical pains, but we don't see the scars people hold from their emotional pains.

Just like physical scars make up our appearance, our inner scars make up our personality and the way we live our lives.

I just thought this was an interesting thought.

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