Scars

I used to be a real tomboy. I've got the scars to prove it - all over the place!

There's one on my knee. I fell while running across a rough-tar road in Umtali (Mutari as it is now). Blood abounded, but now all that's left is a white mark on my knee.

There's another between my thumb and index finger on my right hand - I was carving away at a piece of soapstone when the chisel slipped and gouged into my hand. I still have the stone I was carving into a pendant.

There are a few round ones on my legs - leftovers from a plague of boils after a climate change from Zimbabwe to South Africa. At one time I had 42 of the painful things all over my thighs and torso.

There's one on the side of my knee. I tried to step off a moving train as it pulled to a stop at the station, stepped off with the wrong foot and landed in a heap - in front of an entire carriage full of nice young men. Horribly embarrassing! :) When I touch that scar I feel it centimetres away thanks to some interesting nerve damage in the area.

There's one on the back of my right hand - burnt against the stove while removing a tray of brownies a few years ago.

There is a different kind of scar on my stomach - a single stretch mark from bearing my son.

Each of these has their story, their memory - and most of the memories are good.

But I bear interior scars too, and they are often still painful. Scars from words flung at me that tore into my heart. Scars from rejection. Scars from failed relationships. Scars from bad experiences with church. Scars from lessons learnt growing up. You can't see them, and yet they too have stories and memories attached. Sometimes a nerve in them is touched and the pain is back - dulled a little with time, but still there.

These kinds of scars are very hard to get over. There's no bandage to apply, nothing to staunch the flow of blood when they're accidently re-opened. No stitches will pull their edges together and no soothing ointment can be applied.

Yet I do bear some of them with pride. They are battle-scars, indicators of my learning and growing and maturing. They may still hurt, but they've helped to form the person I am today. Even if they hurt.