Scars..

Scar: A mark left on the skin or within the body where a wound, burn, or sore has not healed.

Today, I want to celebrate your scars. The scar on my heart shows that it was once abused, misused, and broken, but because someone celebrated me and cared enough to be sensitive to my scars, I was able to put the pieces back. I want to celebrate the symbols of strength that are invisible to others; the scars that remind you daily that life did not break you. I know what it feels like to feel like you are not worth celebrating. I know what it feels like to have everyone else around you praised and you looked over. I know what it feels like to feel invisible. It wasn’t until someone saw what was invisible to others, and celebrated the strength behind them that I truly understood what made scars so beautiful and unique.

I think we all deal with some insecurities growing up. Whether it be kids making fun of us at school, or crazy lies we tell ourselves. But, besides the little jokes that start at school, and the lies in our head, to grow up feeling like you are not worth celebrating stems from the lack of celebration in your home growing up. I’ll never forget the year my family didn’t celebrate my birthday. A week before my 12th birthday, I got suspended off the school bus. I was bouncing a basketball in the aisle causing my bus driver to become distracted several times. My mother was so mad at me that she put me on punishment. She was going completely blind at the time so she would not be able to drop me off or pick me up from school. My step-father left for work around 6 am which was before my sisters and I got up to get ready for school so I guess he couldn’t take me either. Mommy told me I wouldn’t be doing anything for my birthday and that I was on punishment for the month. I was that child who never knew what she wanted for her birthday or Christmas so in a way I wasn’t totally heartbroken when she said that. I didn’t have any big plans for my birthday anyway. My last party was when I was in kindergarten so I wasn’t expecting a huge celebration. But, I must admit I thought I was still getting a birthday cake, a birthday card with some money and some extra lovin’ from my parents. Boy, was I wrong. I was SO wrong. No one wished me a “Happy Birthday” nor did I receive anything. I was really hurt about that. My birthday wasn’t even worth celebrating. Two years ago when I got my first car, my aunt was SO excited for me. She couldn’t stop hugging me and smiling and calling everyone in the family. I was happy but I wasn’t expressing any excitement. After about two hours, my aunt was really confused. I overheard her on the phone with my grandfather saying: “Daddy, this little girl has been let down so many times, she doesn’t even know how to get happy for herself.” I can remember what she said verbatim because it was true. When I was hoping someone would celebrate me and cheer me on, it never happened so if I got praise, I accepted it. If I didn’t, I was ok. I was very happy to have my own car but I didn’t think I was worth the celebration so I didn’t celebrate.

It wasn’t until I moved in with my other aunt that I realized I was worth the celebration. She got excited about everything I did. When I sold a home theater system at Bose, when I got employee of the month, when I got an A on a 10 point quiz, when I got a bonus check from work…everything! She celebrated me almost every day. She genuinely wanted the best for me and she was proud of any and everything that I did. Everything I thought about in that nine months, she pushed me to do it. She thought I was worth celebrating. I didn’t really know how to receive it at first. For so long my own family made me feel like I had nothing to offer. I was in competition with my sisters and I was constantly losing. When I moved to Virginia and got on my feet, every time I would go home and talk with my parents, they would tell me how proud they were of me and they took credit for everything I was doing. My step-father justified that by saying, “If we gave you everything, you would have never learned how to work for what you have. It feels good to have your own now right?” I honest to God wanted to roll my eyes in his face but I didn’t. I just smiled and said, “Right.” My mother would say: “See, you’re able to do all of this stuff because of everything I taught you. I’m proud of you girl. I was just like you when I was your age.” Though my mother and I had our ups and downs, I’d be lying if I said she isn’t responsible for the woman I am today. I am a lot like her. From learning how to cook, clean, wash clothes, balance a check book, wash a car, work a computer, never accept ‘no’ from the first person you talk to, but going to the one who can make decisions to learning the importance of tithes and offering, she has taught me all of that so I always give her credit. Could she have showed her love for me a little better? Absolutely. She made up for a lot when I moved out of the house. She became one of my closest friends and she became everything I wanted her to be growing up. Though she was mean sometimes, I still loved her. I still obeyed and honored her and sometimes when people treat you good no matter how badly you treat them, you can’t help but to return the love and eventually that’s what she did.

I had to be ok with the way my story was written. That was the only way I would be able to truly celebrate me. I had to celebrate getting over the past, loving people beyond their demons, and I had to learn to celebrate me all by myself. Growing up feeling like I wasn’t good enough was one of the most depressing things I’ve ever had to go through. Sharing this with you wasn’t easy because it still hurts. I’m still dealing with seeds of bitterness. As you forgive, you will hurt. In order to acknowledge and face something, you must allow yourself to feel. I can still feel the pain of my parents not celebrating my 12th birthday and I’m 21 years old. But, if I don’t allow myself to feel, I’ll never be able to truly heal and forgive. I encourage you to pull yourself up and allow those emotional and mental wounds to heal up. They leave scars but you need those to remind you of what cannot defeat you.. Life can be depressing if we focus on all of the things that hurt us with victimized eyes and unforgiving hearts, but a life of healing can be gained if you allow what hurt you to make you better.

With love,

Darian