I got my very first set of scars when I was only six months old. As a baby with club feet, the treatments to correct them start as soon as possible after you're born which meant a cycle of wearing casts and eventually surgery for me.
As I grew up, I knew my feet looked different from everybody else's. I remember looking at the winding pair of scars on my ankles when I was in preschool and thinking they looked like centipedes. While I have my fair share of insecurities, my scars have never seemed to bother me even when I was at the age where a lot of people start noticing things they don't like about themselves. Any other scars I have are faint (and likely to be a result of clumsiness or scratches from my cats).
However, I can't say I have the same forgiving nature towards my acne. It has gotten significantly better since the beginning of the oh-so-wonderful journey into puberty, but I still have my days where there's a noticeable mark right smack in the middle of my forehead that all the concealer in the world can't seem to hide. Luckily, when you're a swamped college student with little to no free time, you learn to get a perspective on what really matters and/or not have the time to worry about trivial things anyway.
This neutral line of thinking doesn't stop with scars though. I have cellulite and stretch marks just like a large portion of the world's population, but to me, they're just lines on my skin. There are a few moles on my arms including the cutest one above the knuckle of my right ring finger. It's not like these features are hurting anybody.
When it comes to accepting your "flaws," I've learned that the best method isn't thinking positively 100% of the time out of nowhere, but rather starting with accepting that these things are a part of you and thinking "meh" whenever you see them. As for me, I believe that my scars tell a story. They explain how I was born with an obstacle already in my path, but I overcame it nonetheless. I've endured pain and heartache, but I'm happy to deal with a few scars if it means I can walk like everyone else. In the words of Carla from "Connie and Carla," "...worship that body! It's the only one you've got."
