I Am the Scars

So, amongst everything else yesterday I had this realization.

I was standing in the bathroom about to take a shower (so naked cause that's how that works usually). I was still more asleep than awake. When I looked in the mirror my first thought was that I looked photoshopped. Like someone stuck my head on another body. All so surreal.

But, then my eyes went from what's new to what's old. My scars from all the Crohn's surgeries. The scars that Dr. Beck was going to fix in California but then decided not to. I was so upset when that happened. I wanted to fix everything. Or I thought I did...

And now, I realize, I don't. Maybe I'm going crazy. I don't know. But, amidst all the surrealism of a body I still have difficulty believing is mine, there was me. The scars of who I am, what I've been through, the road traveled so-to-speak. It grounded me. Made me still feel like me. Where the colostomy bag was for 2.5 years. Where the ileostomy bag was for 6 months. Where the stitches ripped and the wound vac was. The scars from stitches, sutures, staples, etc.

It seems crazy to me after having gone through so much to have the body I've always wanted that I would WANT to keep the scars. Especially when they're so extensive and likely a turn off to most people.

But I realize now the Goddess prevented me from fixing them in San Mateo for a reason. Because they're really all that's left of who I was. As I sit here in a new body, new living situation, without my cats or my mom, with a pc that I still haven't had time to piece together. Everything that was is gone. And as happy as I am about it all it is still hard to let go of an entire life all at once. Everything that I was. So yeah, I'll keep my scars till the day I die, the internal ones, the emotional ones, and yes, the external ones too.