I use to bury my scars.
Also known as past hurts, wounds, major life hiccups.
If I didn’t talk about them – then technically – they didn’t really exist.
Until someone else would bring them up. Out of the blue. As a joke. As a moment of reflection. It always unnerved me. Someone else talking about my buried scars.
That’s when I realized, I needed to take my power back. I needed to own my scars. Stop covering them up. Stop hiding from them. Start accepting them as proof that I was growing wiser and more magical with each one.
My scars were testimonials to my truth.
You’re not going to get through this thing called life without getting a few scars along the way.
And they’re a part of your inherent beauty. Your story. The magic of who you are today.
Embrace your scars. Grant them the dignity they deserve.
Your scars are not signs of brokenness.
Your scars are reminders of how you’re evolving. Who you’re becoming.
They represent your strength. They remind you that you are in fact a Warrior Goddess.
From my scars to yours, hugs.