Scars.
I was just sitting here thinking about them while looking at the scars on my leg. They have been keeping me from wearing short shorts and skirts to show off my shapely gams. I know that it is now the season for covering up, but here in Cali it has been intermittently in the 70s so I have yet to put away my warm weather wardrobe. (Actually, who am I kidding? I just use my summer cloths to layer, layer, layer away the cooler months.)
This feeling, it's reminiscent of the emotional scars that kept me from wearing skirts and dresses just a few short years ago. Those emotional scars kept me wondering, worried that people would judge based solely on my appearance.
And now there are these very real, very visible scars that represent the depth of the trauma and pain that I have experienced. And I'm afraid once again that someone will judge me harshly based upon their notion of what my scars may represent.
But still, I want to feel about my scars the same way I feel about my fat. I want to apply the same 'I don't give a fuck' attitude and just wear whatever the hell I want. And it dawns on me right this second, as I am writing this, that the only way I am going to get there is to just say 'fuck it!' I am cute as hell and wear what I goddamn well please.
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