Our Scars Are Our War Paint.
{Photo credit: Sarah Mangiarelli}
The scars on our body give existence to the moments that have come and gone.
Whether it is the scar on your shin where you slid into the stone steps as a kid, the incision line from the birth of a child, or the drawing of a loved one that used to be the home to a thousand loving kisses, the scars are our proof of life.
They are our trails of where we once have been. The moments that have broken us, shaped us, and molded us along on our journey. They are reminders of the loss, the hurt, the abandonment and brokenness we feel.
They are the proof of our rising, rebuilding, of our loving compassion. As unique to us as our fingerprints, for no one, not even those on the journey with us, will carry the same scars in the same exact way.
Our scars are where we have been, what we have endured. They are not who we are, who we will become, or where we are going. We are not limited by the moments of pain or bliss that they hold. They are simply the map of where we have journeyed from.
If you hover your hand over those marks of life, over those reminders of love, and hurt and pain and joy, you can feel the energy they carry. You can feel the way that your body has clung to the energy of those scars. Where you can’t let go. Where you need to heal — not externally, not through plastic surgery or tattoo removal, but through the release of the grip you hold on with to the emotions of your experiences.
Our scars are where our true beauty lies. They are the openings where our light, if we choose to let it, can truly shine through. They are both the map of our strength and where the healing needs to take place. They are our gateway to the depths of our own inner being, our divine uniqueness, exactly as God created us.
Wear your scars proudly. Wear them beautifully with the strength and courage of the warrior that you are. Our scars, nor the moments in which the scars occurred, ruined us, but they didn’t destroy us. Yes, maybe they knocked us off of our feet, reminded us of our human experience, showed us the depth of our love, the depth of our vulnerability, but they didn’t break us.
Our scars are the first parts of us that we should show the world. To show our muster, our capacity to heal, to forgive, to love, to fall, and to love again. We aren’t supposed to get out of this ride unscathed. We are supposed to be knocked down, knocked around, and to rise again. Our scars are our war paint — the signal to everyone we encounter that we are going to live this life, that we are going to love this life.
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Sarah Mangiarelli is a mom of two beautiful babies. While her career is in accounting, her passion is in writing from the soul and being out in nature. She is on the precipice of a new journey in her life, and hopes that the words she writes through her struggles and triumphs may bring some peace to others who are brave enough to begin their own new adventures. You could contact her via email or Facebook.
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