Melissa said, "Scars are beautiful."

As I was was in the bathroom washing my face this morning I started thinking about scars.  I have been battling some acne since my hospital stay.  I blame it on my change in hormones and stress of the whole situation.  I finally broke down and went to the dermatologist and have a whole regimen now that has helped a great deal.  I was thinking that I was glad that the scars are my face are starting to fade, but that made me think of the other scars I have on my body.  I have never really minded scars anyway and now I appreciate them more.  Most of my scars remind me of things I have overcome.

I have the scars from my gastric sleeve and gastric bypass, the scars that represent the beginning of my ordeal.  I have the muscle and nerve biopsy scars, which are particularly funny to me.  This surgery was done by a plastic surgeon and these two scars are by far my craziest looking scars.  When the surgeon came to explain the surgery he held up his fingers about 2 inches apart and said the scar on my upper thigh and ankle would only be about that big.  Well the scar on my upper thigh is at LEAST six inches long and quite deep and the scar on the side of my left ankle looks like he cut me open with a jagged piece of glass.  Even though the scars look crazy, they represent the knowledge that I did not have permanent muscle or nerve damage. I have the scars on my Achilles tendons and the backs of my calves that represent being freed from the searing pain that I was having every time I tried to stand up and put my heels on the ground.  I also have the scar on my right ankle from my broken ankle repair.  It reminds me not to get too cocky and try to stay humble, because no matter how confidant you are feeling, something can make you slip and fall.

I also have scars that are attached to memories.  I have a scar on my chin that I got when I was about 5 or 6 years old.  I got it when I went with my dad to the gym one day.  He told me not to play around on the equipment but as soon as his back was turned I went to the dip bars and tried to do the dips that I saw the guys doing.  Well needless to say I could not hold my chubby self up and I fell and hit my chin against the thick bar.  I probably needed stitches, but my parents patched me up.  This reminds me that listening to your parents is probably a good idea most of the time.  I have an almost perfectly round scar on my right elbow that is attached to a particularly good memory that has to do with Danny, but I won't go into details about that. *wink*

Scars are also not always visible.  Things happen to us that scar our hearts and minds.  I remember being teased as a child about my weight.  These hurtful words seared my soul and would shape the way I think about myself until this very day.  My parents moving us around from city to city in Oregon and then from Oregon to Alabama was terribly painful for a young girl, but just like a scar, once time passed the mark faded and I realized that new places and new experiences open our minds and hearts to things that we might not have had the opportunity to experience otherwise.  Watching my parents' have a loving, sometimes frustrating, but all the while lasting marriage left a mark on me that would carry over to my own marriage that despite the odds and some pretty serious struggles, has lasted almost 15 years and will last a lifetime.  I remember my favorite teacher, my band director Mr. White, asking me after I had not done very well as drum major at a competition if I had done my best.  When I responded that I had, he said that is all he asked  of me, to do my best.  His words of comfort cut through my disappointment and tears and would forever shape the kind of teacher I wanted to be and how I wanted to empower and encourage my students.

Scars may look ugly, jagged, and raw in one sense, but remember they represent healing, time, and transformation as well.  Some people may think that scars are ugly, but I think scars are beautiful.