Scar Tissue

Every once in a while when I'm walking around I become suddenly aware of my hip... My hip that 3 years ago was fresh out of surgery and deep into physical therapy. I become jolted by how in-evident the trauma that was once so overwhelming is today. The human body's ability to sustain pain, injury, and simply put, hurt, is incredible. My limp is so far gone that I can't remember it existing. My sleepless nights spent twisting and turning in agony seem like a bad dream that I was shaken from as a child. My scar tissue is simply that: scar tissue. I'm different; I'm stronger.

While I was recovering from my (completely wretched, by the way) hip surgery, and then later from a break in my foot, I remember my doctors talking about scar tissue and rebuilt bone. One said, more poignantly than I'll be able to remember, that when part of you breaks, it rebuilds itself so carefully, and with such strength, that another break in the same spot is near impossible. The strength of a scar is astounding.

And, my scars are more than just from broken bones and rebuilt hips, but from something deeper, something more acute. I'm wounded from the boys who didn't like me back, from the friends who didn't care enough, from the strangers who didn't smile back, from the 'thank yous' I didn't get at work, from the interviews and call backs that went unanswered. I'm wounded from the times I've put myself on the line, and been knocked down. I often can't help but wonder if I'd be a different person had I been hurt less, or god forbid, more. Would I see the world differently? Is the way that I see it wrong? Or am I right where I'm meant to be?

Which is right here.

Right now.

Looking at a fork in the road and wondering which way I should go.

Staying where I am, for my own sanity, is no longer an option. And while continuing to search the world for purpose is an option, it doesn't feel like the right one, especially when I have so much purpose right where I am now.

So then theres the crossroads. It's a really lovely crossroads if I think about it too. To have two jobs that I feel passionate about both want ME feels really special. And a lot less wounded. And this sensation is so new that I can't help but lean onto my once-fragile right side and think, 'is that the hip that used to make my eyes water with pain?' 'did my hip get stronger or did I become stronger in order to help it recover?'

My scars, thats who I am. And with each one I became a little but more of who I needed to be, not just so that I would't hurt myself in that way again, but so that it wasn't an option. It's corny and it's said too much, and without enough heart, but, failure isn't an option. My scar tissue carefully wove itself together to make my soft spots invincible. I'm more today than I was yesterday, and I wouldn't have it any other way.