And even through the years, where conflict arises- do I have to cream daily? I don’t want to more pressure garments. No I don’t want to wear a massive splint to hold up my arm, ‘I don’t want to be like this!’ the teen in me shouts. ‘Why should this all happen to me, haven’t I been through enough, WHY ME?’ But life moves on, things get better. My scars heal and break and wear. I have operations to fix you, to restore you to help you. Function and purpose always the goal. I want to help you, look after you, after all you do both for me. You protected me at young age. You protect me still. You see, your appearance on my body came from a negative, and grew through the numerous surgeries we’ve had. Over the years you have softened, died down in color, you’re smoother and manageable and you’re my piece of armor. To me you signify all I’ve been through, but more importantly you represent all I can do. So my friend, my scars, it really goes without saying, I love you. I love you. I really do. Thank you for all you have done for me, thank you for all the people you have enabled me to meet. Thank you for all the highs, and for showing me that I am strong enough to overcome the lows.
To end this letter I just want to say, keep on living life this way. Together we are a great team, and can bring so much awareness. We can share our story and our positive outlook, as well as show people the actual reality. Scars are great, they truly are. Without mine I don’t know where I would be! But life isn’t always easy, it comes with a price, the constant management, surgeries and procedures. I’m no longer a teenager, with a stubborn outlook- I cannot and will not be reluctant to help you out, to cream and massage, to stretch and manipulate, to focus on recovery after each and every procedure. I will hold my head high, no matter the stares. It’s you and me friend. Yes,you and me my friend.