For as long as I can remember, I have had a scar under my bottom lip. The scar extends out from my lip in an arch. My dad can only tell me that I ran into something and cut myself. He has no idea if I needed stiches or not. From what I can tell, the remains of my wound indicate that I did need stitches, and that I probably had them at one time.

When I was in the eighth grade, the fear of staph infection was a real thing. When one of my sister’s best friends got staph, and then she started developing boils, we saw the gross and painful effects of this potentially deadly infection. When I was going into my freshman year of high school, I started developing similar painful boils on my stomach. The pain was excruciating. I took about eight Tylenol day and still the pain would not subside. There were nights when I would lay completely still, but the pain would persist. Sometimes I rolled back in forth in my bed, crying from how these wounds hurt. I watched the first boil explode into a bloody, pussy mess, but when I tried to bandage and dress the wound, my bandages irritated the sensitive area and the boils spread. I had two more develop on the skin on top of my pelvic bone. Every time I moved the pain was almost unbearable. Eventually, I went to the doctor who swabbed at the area so that he could take a culture and test it for staph. The staph infection turned out to be MRSA, an antibiotic resistant form of staph. I had to take medication for the next few weeks, but the prescription failed to kill all of the infection and so the MRSA returned with one more irritating boil. By this time, I knew how to handle this, and I went straight to the doctor, received a longer prescription, and to this day, I am completely free the infection, with the exception of three white scars on my stomach.

I work at a fast food restaurant and I am very clumsy. I constantly run into objects and people. I cut myself on sharp surfaces and burn myself on hot surfaces often. A few weeks ago, I was taking mozzarella sticks out of the oven when I absent-mindedly brushed up against the surface of the hot pan. I felt the familiar pain of my own burning flesh and quickly lunged away from the pan. A few days later I realized the burn was a lot deeper than I thought. I had given myself my first ever second-degree burn. The burn has healed quite a bit but I know this burn will become a noticeable scar.

I used to self-harm. I owned a very sharp pair of scissors that I used to own to slice my own skin open in order to relieve the pain of a heavy heart. Though I have not cut in a very long time, sometimes I look down at my wrists and I can still see the remnants of my desperate attempts to relieve pain by inflicting more pain on myself.

Scars: They’re ugly yet beautiful reminders of a painful past. Every one of my scars tells a story. Some stories are deeper and more significant than others. Like the wounds that caused these scars, the wounds that have been inflicted on my heart are deep and significant. My heart is scarred. The interesting things about scars is that some scars are essentially wounds deep inside that are still healing. My wounds from staph infection are painful at times because on the inside my body is still trying to recover. I am still trying to heal from wounds that have been inflicted on me. Though scars usually tell a story of a painful experience, they also tell the story of a beautiful victory. Your body survived and displays this mark as its sign of victory. Your internal scars show not only how much you have been through, but how much you continue to make it through. These scars tell of a process you go through to continue to grow no matter what life throws your way. Though you have been torn, there is deeper healing going on inside, and though you have been wounded, the remainder of your wounds, your scars, continue to proclaim your strength to endure every hardship you have been through. Though scars take years to fade, some never fading completely, they will heal almost completely, and like my scars, I will heal almost completely as well. My pain may sometimes return, someone may still poke a wound in my heart and cause me pain, but my life will continue regardless of those setbacks. My scars are a reminder of everything I have been through; physical and emotional. Every one of my scars tells a story of amazing victories and horrendous defeats. Though sometimes they are difficult to look at, I am unashamed of my scars because these scars make me who I am.