I have a lot of scars all over my legs. They're not as bad as they used to be, but they're still there and still very present. See I'm allergic to bug bites and after they blister they leave nice scars on my legs. Which would be annoying but not that big of a deal for most people. However, as the dermatologist told me when I was younger I have slow healing skin apparently which means mine stick around for an extra long time. It really is wonderful :side eye: Anyway the point is that I have scars all over my legs and I've always been very aware of them because people don't like to let me forget them. I remember being younger and both children and adults would ask what happened to my legs (like that's ever an appropriate question), and for some reason I would always try to explain. It's really ridiculous when you think about why I should dignify these rude motherfuckers with an answer about my skin, just because they're nosey. Why should I allow them in to my private life and explain about my skin when they really could care less about me. But, I always answered always. I would explain they were just mosquito bites, and then I'd have to deal with their continued ignorant comments about damn how many mosquitoes bit you? See because bites that were years old looked the same as bites that were only a few months.
Eventually I began to wear pants all the time, which really dealt with the issue because people could no longer see my scars so I didn't have to deal with the questions. However, I was a lifeguard so whenever I went to work I'd have to deal with the questions again, but I'd always answer and deal with the humiliation again. Fortunately eventually they did begin to lighten and they are nowhere near as bad as they used to be. But they're still there, but I no longer cover them up. I no longer hide them because I don't want to be hot and uncomfortable when it's hot. However, I’m always aware of them.
Then this New years eve as I was trying to clean up my house and get the everything in order for the new year I cut my leg on my hamper and now I have a new scar, a nice long one on my calf. I was pissed when I got it, because I know it's going to stick around for a while. Every now and then when I'm lotioning up and I look at it I get pissed again, because there it is just staring at me, mocking me and my formerly improving legs. I stare at it and I resent it and all the other scars that didn't dare heal any faster, and I'm pissed that I was making so much progress but now this one fucking scar is going to stick around. But, it'll be ok I tell myself. It's just one scar of many and it won't stop you from living your life, but it's still another scar and I'll always remember it's there. It showed up when I was trying to get my life together and now I'm stuck with it.
I don't really know why I decided to share the story of my scars, but I guess I'm trying to move from being scarred to having scars.
