There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with. ~Harry Crews
I am not ashamed of any of the scars upon my body. Each tells a story. Some are ragged and attest to my resilience. Others announce I am a mother. Still others remind me that I once had no fears. I wear my scars with pride and acceptance.
But under my skin, there are other marks. Some are scars, hurts long healed. But others are wounds kept open by often flung spiteful words. Just when I think the scar has formed, the scab is ripped away with a new torrent of hate. I truly don’t understand.
Can you imagine living in a world where someone could throw a knife at you if they simply wanted to? They wouldn’t even need a reason. Thankfully, we have laws to protect us from such violence.
But why don’t those laws protect us from the sharp words that are hurled toward our defenseless hearts?
A gun only holds so many bullets. But a tongue never runs out of ammunition.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can also hurt me. I won’t fight back. Neither will I stand and continue to absorb blades of hurtfulness.
To all the bullies, I feel sorry for you. Hurting someone just so you feel better about yourself is only temporary relief. Find a cause. Give your time and energy to something worthwhile, instead of passing judgment upon those who never had a chance to tell their side of the story.
I wish you love and happiness.
