Loving my Scars

Six years ago, my friends and I went mountain climbing in Mt. Tabayoc in Kabayan, Benguet. It was December and only a few days before Christmas. We started early our trek through Mt. Tabayoc’s forest up to its summit. On our way back to the campsite, when we were less than an hour away, I slipped, hit one of the protruded roots and broke my leg.  

It was the most painful experience of my life and two surgeries after, one to repair and the other to remove the implant, I am left with scars on my knee and lower leg.

 

For months after each surgery, I faithfully applied scar removers as prescribed by my doctor. 

 

Most of us see scars as signs of imperfection, that is why it is considered to be unattractive. We live in a society that places a great deal of importance of how we look and finds a solution for every flaw. 

 

Keloid developed and after some time, I gave up. I avoided wearing skirts and shorts that would show my scars.  It attracted too much attention and sometimes even nasty comments. 

I bought knee wraps and even considered getting a tattoo to cover it. 

 

I eventually got used to seeing it and started appreciating what my scars represent and tell.  

 

My scars tell the story of my strength. I didn’t know before that I am capable of enduring that much. The accident itself was a blur. I could not remember how it happened, but I remember the look on my friends faces when they made initial assessment on my leg.

 

I remember my eight hours of agony as I was transported on a makeshift hammock on foot and then in a van. I remember all the intense muscle spasms. I remember the pain after my surgery as my body was forced to accept the implant. 

 

My scars also tell the story of was able to stand, kick and jump after. It took me a while, longer than I projected, but I did it.  Yes, it was difficult and a lot of times disheartening. I remember all those days I spent seated in front of people, studying how they walked or the time I felt sad I couldn’t ride the escalator or the time I watched my friends enjoy things I couldn’t.

 

My scars also tell the story of my survival, of the people who helped me battle it through and the lessons I acquired along the way. 

 

It was actually empowering when I learned to accept my scar and how it is a big part of me now. The mountain climbing accident is an important event in my life and I don’t want the marks it left behind to ever fade away.  

 

As one of my favorite quotes goes, “Maybe life isn’t about avoiding the bruises. Maybe it’s about collecting scars to prove we showed up for it.”

 

Who says only perfect skin is beautiful? Scars are also beautiful and badass.