Strength of Scars
Author Note: I had written this essay in July 2021 and submitted to the R3 Journal. I have since decided to post this here instead.
We all live with scars, some more visible than others. These scars are the evidence we have lived life; that we existed here on this planet. Still, some scars are also heavy burdens. We hide scars away, we cover them up, we cherish them. Scars are a part of us. They remind us of our adventures. They remind us of our darkest hours. They tell our life story.
Like everyone, I have scars. Some you can see, some you can’t. Some are locked deep inside where I refuse to acknowledge they exist, except at that dark, still time of night when there is nothing to do but look.
I accumulated many scars over the short course of the few years leading up to 2020. Physical scars like the scar I received from my near-death cesarean or the scar from my second cesarean that covered it up. Emotional scars like those from the dozens and dozens of job rejections, figuring out where next meals were coming from, the constant dismissal of my expertise because I am “mentally ill,” and the guilt of being a mother during all of this.
My life passion has been my fight for advocacy and inclusion of my disabled community. We often have many more scars than abled folks and these scars are used as reasons to ignore us, disregard us, exclude us. I fight to remind the world we are here and we deserve to live as humans too.
But these scars of mine I was telling the world to see and accept were the same scars the world was seeing and dehumanizing.
I had become numb. The scars were threatening to overwhelm me. I started believing the lies the universe was whispering to me, “You are not valuable. Your advocacy work is not valuable. You are not valuable.”
Then something magical happened.
In 2020, BTS invited me into their world and the world of ARMY. I fell in love with the music, the dancing, the performances. What I was not expecting was the connection I would feel. Truly an entire world opened up to me. A connection that gave me a common language of love and inclusion that I have found nowhere else. Like a warm spring breeze, BTS blew away the lies the universe had been whispering to me. I am valuable. My work is valuable. I am valuable.
Not only did I find renewed energy for my disability work, but I had a community of people ready to learn and support me. BTS has shown the value of scars. Scars can be beautiful. Scars can tell stories. They say BTS has created the blueprint. This is true. BTS has created the blueprint for how to show kindness and respect to others. BTS has created the blueprint for firmly standing by what you believe in, investing the energy into the work, and believing the rewards will come. BTS has shown an entire world how to express love, not only for others, but for ourselves
So while I continue to carry my scars, I am more accepting that they are a part of my life story. I stay here and continue my (self) advocacy work because in this world, the world of BTS and ARMY, there is a common understanding that we love ourselves and we treat each other with an inclusive, accepting heart. We are each of us valuable. The hard work that each of us does is valuable. We are each of us valuable.
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