A Letter To My Scars
Tara Hubbuck
A Letter To My Scars,
Hello my friend, I feel like we are on a friends basis now right? I have known you now for just over 17 years. I’ve experienced both highs and lows with you. We truly are like a pair of best friends- conflict has occurred but still, we rise above it. We forgive each other, I for my frustration and you for having limits. Because both are okay. We have a relationship, one forced upon us both. But we have the choice to choose the nature of it. And so we did.
From a young age I learnt why you were here, why you covered my body. You were my protection, my symbol of strength, I can take one look at you and see what we’ve been through. Terrible situations have got nothing on us, except they have. They did. It shows. Yet out from the darkness, and from the hospital beds, I rose, because of you, and your ability to protect. I can stand up tall, and raise my head, you see we’ve been on a journey, you and me my friend. No longer in neck braces, face masks and pressure vests, we did that together- you and me my friend. You protected my body, and so I shall protect you. I owe you, I’m grateful. Thank you.
From a young age I learnt why you were here, why you covered my body. You were my protection, my symbol of strength, I can take one look at you and see what we’ve been through. Terrible situations have got nothing on us, except they have. They did. It shows. Yet out from the darkness, and from the hospital beds, I rose, because of you, and your ability to protect. I can stand up tall, and raise my head, you see we’ve been on a journey, you and me my friend. No longer in neck braces, face masks and pressure vests, we did that together- you and me my friend.
You protected my body, and so I shall protect you.
You protected my body, and so I shall protect you.
I owe you, I’m grateful. Thank you.
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 a 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.
xxx Tara
tara hubbuck
Tara Hubbuck is a blogger who started Unapologetically Tara where she shares about all sorts, including body positivity, mental health, faith, positivity and promoting positive burns & scars awareness. Tara herself sustained burn scars just before she turned 2 and this experience helped influence her blogging.