Monday, April 7, 2008

scarred people are beautiful.

I just took a good long look at the mirror moments ago and noticed my imperfections physically. I have scars here and there, memories of my childhood days. Ew.

So how do these scars make me beautiful?

Actually, physically they don't.. It was a subject of criticism way back in grade school and as I grow older, I learned just to laugh about it. Thanks to air stockings that I sometimes use when I need to wear short dresses and skirts. ;p

However, these scars helped me accept my own skin and be comfortable with myself. I am not flawless, and this goes not just physically...

For my age, I already had a good dose of pain and was able to deal with it well. I became wounded, so badly that I began to hate myself. But time, really heals all wounds... Eventually I accepted the unaccepted, and let my wounds heal on their own.

I am beautiful. I should know. Because my scars made me who I am now. A much much better me.

...

The scars that I have may have healed ages ago, but the scar I have created to other people is just too deep and may take a while to heal. And even if it has, the mark is still there and will always be there.

For that I am sorry.

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