I don’t think you know it. I am not ashamed of my self harm. I don’t regret a moment of anger or misery. Any of those attempts to understand or encapsulate myself as I am. I healed and I grew. I was scared and confused, that is not something to be ashamed of. I was fragile as everyone is. I didn’t smoke, drink, fight, or do drugs. Which have been socially accepted. I was angry and I took it up with myself. I searched for a way to love myself in a world where I had no grasp of the concept. So I experimented in an unhealthy way. I had to learn somehow. So I found love through hate, these shameless twins. I love my scars as I love myself. Shamelessly. I don’t think they are ugly. How can a journey be ugly? My story is amazing. My scars are only a fragment of that story. So no, I will not belittle myself or my strength for you. My scars wonderful. I am wonderful. I continue to heal. Shamelessly. I live.