Scars collect over a lifetime. Many fade, but most of us can readily remember how they came to be as if it were yesterday.

Stitches, stretch marks, incisions, tussles with nature, tussles with siblings, all remind me of my history on my way to today. These mark my path, the things that made me stronger, the things I survived.

My scars deserve my gratitude. They are evidence of my resilience and recovery. Some are reminders of how much worse it could have been.

There are scars on the inside, too. They are the encounters that healed over, leaving a reminder but no longer festering.

Are you healed inside and out? Or do you harbor wounds that happened in the past? To do so is to re-inflict pain every time you think about it. To refuse healing. It is a way to remain a victim.

When we commit to healing our bodies and souls, we commit to letting go of the pain and keeping the lesson.

My external scars remind me that I have three beautiful children, I was once a bratty little sister, got too close to a cactus, the mammogram scare, and to buy the pre-cut bagels. My internal scars remind me of when I drew boundaries about what I was not willing to do for love, helped me to redefine love, and gave me a sense of strength.

When you consider your scars, both internally and externally, what is the story they tell you? About the times you were slighted or when you healed?

Want your scars to tell a different story? Let’s see if I can help.

Mary