Everyone has them, even the queen (shocker!). Whether it be from an unfortunate encounter with a lamp post, a marking of birth (birth mark, they’re called birth marks…), or the outcome of a traumatic period of your life, they’re there. A four letter word- scar– a word that spend less than a second on the lips, but a lifetime on the hips (*comes to the realisation I have just re-spoke the script of a dieting advert*)…no no, sorry, lets re-iterate: a word that takes 50 milliseconds to say, but a lifetime to go away. A scar:
scarskɑː/noun1. A mark left on the skin or within body tissue where a wound, burn, or sore has not healed completely.“a faint scar ran the length of his left cheek”
“Scars are daily reminders of something that happened to us- usually something significant. We should appreciate their presence, or at least acknowledge them and see them in a different way. It’s a unique marking and part of my identity.”
To all the many millions of readers I currently do not have (*preys to self*), I thank you for taking the time to thoroughly depress yourself by reading my hopeless attempt at a seriously serious topic. I realise the reality is something along the lines of: (1) see nutella jar, (2) skip to end hoping for Nutella giveaway competition, (3) realise its a below bog standard blog, (4) quietly leave.