Our Scars Are Beautiful

I saw a movie recently. I don’t remember much about it, but at the end, the heroine of the movie was saved from certain death all because she was scarred. She had suffered as a child. She had lost her parents, been sexually abused, and the way she dealt with her pain was to cut herself. The scars that were left behind saved her from a psychopath who had made it his job to hurt or kill those who had never suffered. When he saw her scars, he set her free.

We all have suffered in some way. We all bear the evidence of that suffering. Some of us carry noticeable markings of the pain, others, not at all. So often, we overlook the beauty of our scars. The heroic way our broken skin blends with new to form a masterpiece. A masterpiece that once shared, could heal a broken spirit.

Someone very close to me has a large scar on her leg. As a little girl, I remember thinking how pretty it was. The path of swirls, the shadows, the light, the dark; it spoke to me and I was mesmerized. I don’t know if I have ever shared that with her. I don’t know if she ever saw the beauty of that scar, but the picture it painted in my head made me feel unafraid, bold.

Let us not be ashamed of our scars. Let us never hide the battles we survived to obtain the beauty that makes us who we are. We are broken, but we are beautiful.