Scars are sexy.

I had surgery this last week. My gallbladder decided to stage a revolt and had to be removed posthaste. It was the first surgery I’ve had, and I was a bit leery about the whole thing. I imagined all of the worst case scenarios; the improbable and unlikely things that only happen to one in several thousand cases. I would be that one case. My luck is just that terrible. So for a few weeks I ruminated over the possible things that could befall me in the hospital, a place I hate above all things. I worried. I fretted. I may have cried once or twice.

And then it was over. I went in, fell asleep, and awoke without my pesky gallbladder to give me any more issues. A couple of weeks of recovery, and I’ll be almost good as new. Maybe even better. A whole new me.

The day after my surgery, it occurred to me that I would have scars where they cut me open; five marks they left behind as they removed the offending organ. Five scars on my skin. Five more imperfections I wouldn’t be able to undo.

But scars are sexy right?

I didn’t feel sexy. Standing in the bathroom, the light glaring on the body I’ve rarely loved the way I ought, I saw only more reasons for a man to think me not beautiful. I saw more reasons for me to avoid looking at my own body. I saw five reasons to cover myself with layers and excuses, hiding scars that I was embarrassed about.

And I know it sounds trivial. I see the words typed out for you and I to read, and I can hear the petulance in them. But as a woman who feels uncomfortable in her own skin, knowing there are five new marks on me only heightens those feelings. I feel self conscious. Perhaps even unworthy.

Then I think about the other scars, the ones tattooed on my soul. I think about the thoughts and actions that have left their mark on me. I think about the struggles I’ve endured, the storms I’ve encountered that leave me battered and broken. I think of how many times I’ve had to put myself back together. I think about the jagged scars on my heart, left behind as I’ve tried to stitch it into some semblance of what it once was though pieces seem to be missing.

I look in the mirror and see a woman who isn’t whole. Who is broken. Who needs to be healed.

I see a woman who will always carry scars.

I see a woman who is better for them.

Everyone carries their own marks; scars on their heart, body, and soul. We see them, often, as something that mars our perfection rather than a thing of beauty. We see them as something to hide. We are embarrassed by them and the past they imply. We look at our scars and wish them away. We tell ourselves it is unfair that we have to carry them with us always.

But there is beauty in imperfection. We are, after all, the gorgeous sum of our flaws.

Scars mean we have endured.

They set us apart. They are our stories, written on us to be read by those who are a bit broken themselves. The scars show that we have survived; that we’ve fought and wrestled our way through. Our scars prove that we are healed, touched by a loving Father who loves us because of the lives we’ve lead, in spite of the mistakes and because of the risks.

Our scars make us who we are. They make us sexy, gorgeous, and breathtakingly beautiful. They make us a person worth knowing and loving. Our scars are nothing to be ashamed of.

Thank you for reading! And maybe (definitely) follow me on Twitter. I’m pretty entertaining.

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7 thoughts on “Scars are sexy.

  1. I’ve felt the exact same way before. I finally came to the conclusion you did, however. Scars are not to be hidden or to be ashamed of. They serve as a semblance that we survived tragedy, hate, war, and everything else that life has tossed at us. I wrote a long letter/poem to one of the people who tore every bit of me apart after I had been trying to let go and forgive him for 3 years. One of the things I wrote was “The scars you gave me, the wounds you inflicted, only gave Him a handhold into my life of ignorance”. God works through and in the broken spaces and fills them in with His love. If we were never hurt and broken to begin with and everything was perfect from the beginning, He’d have never had a reason to fill our voids with love, forgiveness, and joy. Thank God for imperfections! For it’s in those imperfections that He can make us clean and blameless.

    • “God works through and in the broken spaces and fills them with His love.” I LOVE this. So beautifully put. Our brokenness is not weakness. Merely a chance to feel His love and grace and share it with others. It gives us compassion, I think.
      Thanks for reading! It means a lot :)

      Cassi

  2. This was a great post. When you not only carry the scars and wounds of others on your heart and soul but on your arms and wrists that you inflicted on yourself it leaves a gaping place for people to enter in unwarranted.
    I’ve come to great healing with the scars on my wrists and most people don’t even say anything. However you get the moronic few who say something totally offensive and I’m left with two choices. Show grace and honestly. Or be inappropriate back. Usually I brush it off. God has done a big work with these scars and the grace that covers them is huge.

    Bethany

  3. Pingback: friday favorites: december 14, 2012 « elena.teresa.ann

  4. Thank you.
    I stumbled upon your blog tonight and found exactly what God needed me to read.
    I’m a 27yr old mum, and although my fiance doesn’t notice my scars, I do. I’ve delayed our wedding in fear of them somehow ruining our day. I was accepted to uni today, something I’ve only ever dream of happening! But my first thoughts were of my scars – what should I wear to hide them? What will the lecturers think? What if they kick me out because my scars.

    These permanent reminders of past failings, past hurt, past despair are only silenced by another scar. The one scar I’m proud of… The scar that was made when my son was born (c-section). God loved me so much that he gave me a son. He gave me one scar that dispelled the shame of all the others. He showed me that life does not end with brokenness, but instead begins with it.

    • This was absolutely beautiful to read and made me smile :) Because I absolutely agree — life doesn’t end with brokenness it. It allows us to grow into something else. It gives us a story. Your scars are lovely because they are a part of you, and YOU ARE LOVELY.
      Thank so very much for reading. And for sharing a part of your story.

      Cassi

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