MY BEAUTIFUL SCARS
BY STRESSLA LYNN JOHNSON
Is it really a scar? Or, something more rewarding like a badge of honor, or the mark left by overcoming a real engrained fear? I wonder about that part of me left on the cold concrete of the sidewalk, where I lost my balance and momentum of forward motion, toppled over the handlebars, with bike in hand. The real pain was to come later, as I saw the redness on the knees where skin used to be.
Is it really a scar? Or, is it the reminder to always get back up after a fall and move forward? To see the wholeness of the self, even when parts of me must be peeled away or scraped off, in order for growth to take hold. Physical or mental, the scars have purpose and meaning. There is a sense of honor in counting the many amazing, beautiful scars that are woven into me now. | SLJ