I’ve heard that all scars tell a story and that every scar shows us something we’ve overcome. It’s taken me a long time to realize just how true this is. I never saw my scar on my arm as anything but an imperfect mark on my skin. I always felt slightly insecure about it, as it has always reminded me of my past and my fear of extreme heat.
When I was younger, my mom would tell me that someday, when I was older, we could look into methods that would hide my scar. I’m going to be honest here; there were times when I really wanted this. In the summer, when I would wear a tank-top or go to dance with a sleeveless leotard, people would ask questions. I know they were just curious, and I really couldn’t blame them for inquiring, but it really did bother me. In my little girl mind, having to tell people multiple times that I didn’t know how it happened was the most embarrassing thing.
Now, I look back and see things differently because my embarrassing moments have been far worse. More importantly, my perspective on my scar has changed; half the time, I don’t even realize it’s there. It’s gone from being this imperfection on my skin to being a “battle scar.” It shows where I’ve been and how far I’ve come and now it’s starting to fade. Now, people don’t notice it as much, and I rarely get questioned about it.
One night, when I was trying to sleep, I suddenly realized that I didn’t want my scar to fade. This thought literally put my whole brain on halt for three seconds, which is beyond rare. I spent most of my life wishing it would fade, but now? I want my scar to stay as long as it will. Now, that I’m getting older, I see this mark as a part of who I am.
I know my parents would be supportive if I wanted to do something cosmetically to fade or get rid of the scar. But, as much as I wanted to when I was younger, I couldn’t bring myself to do it today. It’s more than a scar to me: it’s part of my journey and my story. And, the scar is the one thing I still have from China, and it’s one of the blessings I’ve been given.