K’vitsh

Via Mugo’s Moving Mountains blog, a stunning little story about scars from The Examining Room of Dr. Charles.

With the same delicate movement that she had performed on her first visit after the accident the young woman lifted her shirt to reveal her stomach. Her scar was still heinous upon first reaction, cutting through her otherwise young and trim abdominal wall. But it was the kind of scar that can expose the illusion of beauty, the imperfection of perfection. For once I felt ashamed for going along with the airbrushed magazine covers, the five story billboards of svelte flesh, and the soft core images of perfect curves projecting out nightly from my television. “It looks like it’s healing well.” I told her. I didn’t know if it would be appropriate or not, but I decided to say it anyway. “Your scar is a story. I hope you can own it. Don’t ever be ashamed by it. It’s a testament to your strength, a mark of your courage.”

I’ve had two surgeries to remove cancer/thyroid. The first left a wee scar about four inches long on my throat. The second goes from the left side of my throat almost up to my right ear.

When I first viewed my big scar, I giggled. I think I was just so happy to have the bandage off and to be feeling perky again, but I like that memory of being tickled, instead of horrified at my first look at it. A pretty girl told me once she found it hot. Most people don’t seem to notice it.

I’ve had moments where it makes me insecure, but mostly I love it. It helps that it’s pretty faint, but still I’m amazed at how little I think about it.

I liked how Dr. Charles wrote of “the illusion of beauty, the imperfection of perfection”. It’s hard to remember how forgiving the majority of people are of physical imperfection. And psychic imperfection.

Now I just have to transfer that forgiveness to the rest of my “scars”.