I used to be self conscious of my scars.
The kids at school would call me Frankenstein.
I remember feeling flawed.
Yesterday at the salon, I was asked how I got the scars on my forehead.
I told her about the wreck, my stepdad, and my brother,
and how I was 5.
I told her how lucky I felt that we all survived.
With so much compassion in her voice,
she looked at me and said,
"Sweetie you are here for a purpose.
That is not a scar.
That! Is a badge of honor."
xoxo
💝
No comments:
Post a Comment