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SCARS TO YOUR BEAUTIFUL

Her: Don’t touch me! If you do, you would regret it. She said in a mix of fear and resentment. 
Him: What if I don’t listen to you? What if I go ahead and touch you? I see you and I see how afraid you are. But it’s okay, honestly. So he touched her and she hissed like a snake had bitten her.
Her: With misty eyes, she spoke a little louder. I told you not to touch me. What the hell!
Him: I know and I’m sorry. It burns, doesn’t it? It burns so much ’cause I felt it. Your scars burn, Jade because unhealed scars will always burn.  And they keep burning till there’s no more you but ashes of yourself.
Her: You don’t know me, Gabriel. You don’t know anything about me. Don’t push it. With that, she walked away and more bitter that someone almost saw through her scars. “Never again”, she said.

Hi everyone. I missed you all. 😍😍😍😍
I hope you missed me too. Between work and writing, I must admit it’s not been easy. Hopefully, it gets better.

Now today, we are going to talk about something we all only whisper about: Scars. Yep Scars. We all have them, don’t we?

Straight right from our days of trying to walk this earth, our experiences with trust and love and all that.

In the world we find ourselves in, each one of us has been scarred more than we wished we had. Sometimes due to our choices and other times no fault of ours.

Personally, those that really hurt and never gets entirely healed are those that you know you didn’t deserve but the world still has a way of blaming you for it.

So with scars, sometimes it makes us feel worthless, helpless and never good enough. We enter friendships and relationships and we are closed to others because we don’t want people to run away from us when they discover our faults and scars. So helpless that we settle for anything less.

There are those moments we manipulate our scars to have our way. We do it sometimes to keep people around. We get so deep into our manipulation that we never own up for anything we do because technically we lay the blame on the scars.

Sometimes we deny their existence till something or someone triggers it then we are broken again.

But there are days we strive regardless of our scars. They are days we accept and believe we are good enough and we truly are.

But what we forget is that healing is not a hundred day scheduled plan. To each person, our healing experience differs. Again there’d be experiences of brokenness during the healing process.

But be rest assured that when the healing process is over, your scars become a testimony of what you have survived, how strong you are and the power within yourself.

Never ever leave a bit of fire burning in your scars. Quench it all out. Give no room for a rekindling of a pain that should have healed. Don’t feed the scars, allow them to heal.

Yaayy glad, we have come this far. Now I’m going to tell my story of dealing and living with scars.    


             SOME WEEKS AGO

I told a colleague that one of my favourite Superheroes of all time was Wolverine. And the dude asked why. 
Then I told him I was intrigued about his claws and more especially his ability to heal literally from just anything without any scarring.
         A picture of Wolverine aka Logan
He just went like; ” I know where you are coming from. You wished you could wipe or heal immediately and leave no scars huh?”
 Being me, I almost got defensive because I genuinely like Hugh Jackman aka Wolverine. Yet I waited for a while and reasoned through his point.  I realised he had some truth in there and also being me, I wasn’t going to rush telling him he’s absolutely right.
 Now after a comme ci comme Γ§a range of morning exercises, I decided to take a shower.
Lol, like my custom is, I opened the water over my head, closed my eyes and allowed my brain to bring forward all the ideas I roughly analysed and the new ideas too.
Then before, I opened my eyes, my mind whispered, ” Scars.”
And I sighed so hard ’cause truth be told, there are some scars, I wished I never had.
Scars straight down to my bone, I wish I could get rid of;
Scars that gave me nightmares and anxieties.
So yes, I wished for so long that there was a way to wipe it all away.



Pre-teens and teenage years, I wished for an “Abracadabra God”  thanks to an animated movie about Merlin the Great Wizard. I wished God could just “fix” me and deep down I believe He could. So why wasn’t He doing so? As little as I was, I was anxious about the future. A girl could just have enough of everything not working for her.

My Physical Education teacher thought I was just lazy at exercising since it either took a while for me to get the exercises or I never got it.
This takes me back to Kindergarten 3. I still remember how the teachers looked pitifully at me and with some throwing sneers at a six-year-old girl who had fallen during a race because her brain forgot to work with her legs and her legs gave her out.
As young as I was, I vouched never to get close to anything exercise and always admired from afar.

I had actually succeeded till we got an athletic Physical Education teacher in Grade Four. Ha!! I knew Hell would break loose and it did. I loved exercises but my body and coordination got it all wrong. Honestly, there was a conflict of interest between the two parties and it wasn’t my fault.
Lol aside from the jogging, I hated all the rest; the jumps, the push-ups, etc. I think to an extent I was tired of trying.

Now came the Pre- Technical teacher, till now I think the man just hated the fact that my dad was an architect/ building engineer and I sucked in his drawing class. Well to my defence, I tried with the theory and he could have been considerate enough but not that man. To top it all, he was quick tempered.  I was always anxious when we had a class with him on a particular day.

To chip it in, I honestly didn’t know what exactly was wrong with me aside from the fact, I had been seriously ill as a kid and it had affected my spine.

Despite being an excellent kid, I always felt not good enough because I lacked physical strength. I appreciated seeing people physically strong that I grew a bit of an inferiority complex. Being a girl made it worse so I wished I had been born a boy so I could hide away. If you ask me why, today I wouldn’t have a concrete answer for you but those days, I did.

I learnt so hard to keep my pain within when bullied by both older kids and other children’s parents. I didn’t want to stress my parents because I felt I was problem enough.

Somehow I had grown up to be both empathetic and a subconsciously resentful individual in my teenage years. I hated to see others in pain so I was always ready to help even if it meant putting others ahead all the time. There was a joy I derived from doing that. Looking back now, I think I hid my inferiority complex in that. I acknowledged the strength of others and never mine because I felt I was nowhere close to strong. I put people so high on my pedestal that when they hurt me, I was broken.
I hated social interactions like it was a plague. I’d rather stay indoors all day with a book or movie than for people to realise how weird I was. So yep, I’d avoid it any day.

Now to resentment, I think I’d be in denial about it until it reared its ugly head. There were days I was a little angry or just bitter for all the things other people could do and I couldn’t. Sometimes I took it out on my brothers. I just wanted to be okay! I wanted the looks to end, the unsolicited laughter, the pity talks to cease. In my head, I was screaming. In my heart was so many unshed tears.

During that stage of my life, I had grown impolite, cheeky and manipulative. They say hurting people hurt people and that was it for me. I began to hurt everyone around me and I didn’t even notice because my brain always tried to rationalize it. I was not in the mood of making friends. I was just tired of being judged and more especially judged by the things I couldn’t do. So I befriended my brain. I actually made it a person and for that period of my life, it worked.

I remember when it was time to go to the boarding house, my mum was teary and afraid when it had been time for me to prepare and leave. Dad had gotten the medical documents that told of my health problem and that I wasn’t supposed to do any strenuous activity at school. I was afraid of leaving my parents to a new environment with people I didn’t know. It wasn’t an easy ride but I pushed myself to do some things. There were days I finished and my neck and spine hurt like hell.

Lol, the Physical Education teacher only liked me when I was off the pitch πŸ˜‚. Well, that was better than nothing. But if there is a group that showed me, unconditional love, it was my school mothers and the two lovely girls who till this day are my friends, Angel and Gift. I was a complicated teenager. I was picked up on, I was defensively cheeky to those who tried to hurt me and that got me a lot of troubles with seniors.

My tolerance has been tested and though it’s very deep, I’ve come to learn that;

Though I can endure it, I don’t have to tolerate it.

Long story short, I survived boarding house and it was worth the ride. There were days I hid and shed tears that have been pushed down within. There were days I questioned God. There were days I was angry with Him. And there were days I just wanted to be alone cause I knew I was fragile and explosive. I needed to be away before I hurt someone.

Yep, I survived boarding house too.  I WAS THERE SOME!!!

Lol in all these, did I have crush or love interests? Lol you and I know, I love love or should we open the book of Hebrews?πŸ˜…πŸ˜…πŸ˜…I did love or like someone however, you put it. He was great actually. Lol kind and thoughtful. Annoying and all. But……
I didn’t want it. I was confused. I felt like the clock was ticking slowly till he realised I was not good enough. So I ruined it. I did everything intentionally wrong to push him away. I didn’t think love had a place for me. That was what my teenage mind got me believing.

When Angel and Gift brought my stubborn head to see what I’d done, honestly, I was ashamed. I had hurt someone who did nothing to deserve it. I apologized, I tried to be a better person for him more than for me.

But I had to let it go. I had to free myself from the prison I had created. When distance and time became an issue between us, I asked myself some questions.

Genuinely, why was I still around him? I realized it was indebtedness, feelings of insecurity. Then I let go. I didn’t want a love born out of indebtedness. So I let it go.

Sometimes our scars and our pain blind us. It turns us into bitter manipulative people or even helpless people. It turned me into both.
I lost some good things because of those scars and how they affected me.

Looking back, I’ve grown so much and I’m thankful. Honestly, I don’t want an abracadabra God or a fairy godmother. I’m learning to own my scars and I’m growing.
Things are coming to me. Things that I thought I’d never been able to. Sometimes, my inefficiencies show their head but then I whisper to myself,
It’s okay, we will try again tomorrow
It’s okay, breathe in, you did better than you thought.

I look at Moses in the Bible and I see that God used Him just the way he was. God could have taken his stammering away but He didn’t. Yet that didn’t stop Moses from becoming one of the greatest prophets of old.Maybe God knew before time immemorial that a daughter of His would need that, in case she started thinking of him as a man with a long white beard in a blue cloak with a wand reciting his favourite spell to fix everything, Abracadabra!!!

Honestly, I thank God for being God.

2Corinthians 12:9
But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may reside in me.
                                             HCSB Bible

Now let’s talk about Scars and Animation!

How many of us remember the villain with an enormous head and blue skin? Yes, I’m talking about the one you are thinking 😁😁😁of. The one and only Megamind!!!!


So here’s a story of a supervillain turned superhero. Megamind grows up feeling ostracized and left out of everything at a very young age. Then he decides, he would do no good but always cause trouble. Somewhere deep within, he wished he had been accepted and given a chance like Metro Man had.

If you look closely at the story, everything he did was for attention and the only way he got it was attacking Metro Man. Metro Man supposedly dies in one such attacks and Mega Mind begins to feel lonely.
Now that’s a bit weird coming from a villain.
Then I ask myself; What if he isn’t really a villain but a scarred little boy in a man’s body? And he actually is! He desires acceptance something he feels the world would never give him because of his blue skin and big-headed brain.

He even takes on a disguise just to save someone because for so long, he’s been seen as the villain with blue skin and a ridiculous big head. Now he decides he’s not good enough to be a hero until a hero he created turns out to be no hero at all. With no choice, he has to save Metro City, villain or not. And in the end, he does that with his blue skin and all. And Mega Mind becomes a hero regardless of his head size or the scars in his past.

You might be wondering what I’m trying to put across. It’s simple;

Learn to give yourself a chance to evolve. Don’t make your past and scars leave an imprint on your tomorrow.

Now to the end of the matter, the movie, Logan taught me something about scars.
A person could go so long without the proper way of healing till it catches up with him or her. Wolverine never had a problem healing his physical scars till it became impossible to do it again. That’s when he began to die.

I don’t know how many of us have to hear this but it’s okay not to be okay.
It’s alright to take time to heal. Don’t rush your healing process for anyone. Whenever we do that, we kill a little of ourselves each time.
And though I even cried seeing Logan die, there’s an extent to which we can all go without properly healing our scars before it comes breaking us down.


In my story, I’ve learnt about my strength. I’ve learnt about my struggles, taking them one day at a time. I’m a survivor and I’m strong enough.

I may not be your kind of strong but I’m strong enough for the battles that I fight and have survived. And that’s okay.



Whew, we’ve come to the end of a long journey. It took guts writing this and I’m so glad I did.

I hope it inspires someone.
It’s okay to seek therapy when you are confused and overwhelmed.πŸ˜„πŸ˜„πŸ˜„

HONESTLY, WE ARE ALL GOOD ENOUGH NO MATTER OUR SCARS!!!

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By Abis Psyche

A young lady with a passion for anything and everything artsy. Painting with words is what I do best. The motive is not to create the perfect picture of emotions, thoughts and feelings. It is to appreciate those imperfect flaws and choices that will always make every story worth telling. My dream is that someday people will learn to tell their stories regardless. Stories heal, and they need to be heard.

5 replies on “SCARS TO YOUR BEAUTIFUL”

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