This is what I look like right now. This is my fifth bout
with skin cancer, and the fourth (and by far the worse) permanent scar on my
face.
I don’t go in the sun. I wear sunscreen every day (have for
as long as I can remember) so how did I get this way?
This is a result of the horrible sunburns I subjected myself
to as a teenager- all so I could look like someone else. Back in the late
seventies, when we fair-skinned girls were supposed to be bronzed like
Farrah Fawcett, I hated my body, I hated my skin. Kids used to tease me and
call me Casper the ghost. That together with the fact that I was trying to be
anyone but myself back then (if you’ve read my essay in Dancing at the ShameProm, you know what I mean) was a toxic combination.
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| The girl who didn't want to be herself. |
So I baked in the sun until my face blistered. And it was
awful and painful and foolish, but still I did it again. And again. Anything to
not look like me.
And here I am at 48.
When I think back on all the stupid things I did as a
teenager…hitchhiking, drugs, hanging out in liquor store alleys asking adults
to buy us booze, running away from home and sleeping in the park….Who would
have thought that the most dangerous thing I ever did, the thing that caused me
the most harm, on so many levels, was wanting to be someone else.
Now I have a permanent scar in the middle of my face to
remind myself of the ways I didn’t take care of myself, the ways I didn’t honor
myself, the ways I didn’t realize I was fine just the way God made me.
Take it from me- don’t long to be anything but you. Look
like you. Embrace you. Live as you. Be grateful for you.
And you won’t end up looking like me.
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| Don't fight who you are. |
Please feel free to use me as a cautionary tale for your
kids who won’t wear sunscreen, and to your teens or friends who bake in tanning
booths.
Oh Hollye--your absolute beauty cannot be marred by a scar. your willingness to step into who you are NOW makes you incredibly attractive from the inside out. I love & admire you--when you look in the mirror I hope you see what I do when I look at you--pure love.
ReplyDeleteLook who's talkin', love goddess Lori. : )
DeleteI've been working on that inside thing, because the outside is inevitably going to fall apart, and it was all an illusion anyway.
I know this scar is a lesson for me. Trying to be a good student.
love you Lori.
You are still beautiful--in every way! I, too, live in fear. I grew up in the days when we thought baby oil and iodine were good things to lie in the sun with. I can't remember if we thought this was protection or just a way to darken our skin. Many serious burns!
ReplyDeleteOh Judy- thank you for your kind and loving words- always. We were all so young and foolish once. I hope you never have to deal with this on your beautiful and kind self. xo
DeleteBut you rock a pair of boxing gloves. And while we cannot go back and do-over our mistakes, you are, most importantly, taking care of yourself. Scars fade, YOU do not.
ReplyDeleteSo true, Sarah. Lessons learned, piper paid, and all that. Now on with the living...
Deletexo
brave, intimate, truthful…we are scar sisters. I am so proud of you, you just keeping stepping over the things that scare you and finding more and more strength.
ReplyDeleteWhew...okay. I'll keep stepping. Every once in a while it would be nice to not be brave, maybe even to be a chicken for a while...hey, a girl can dream.
DeleteI'd walk through anything with you, my scar sister.
Thank you for sharing this. Wisdom is beauty.
ReplyDelete