Scars

 Today was my first "outing" since cancer surgery #2. 

Being the incredibly vain person I am 😂 I had to have the perfect shoes to go with my "I'm actually leaving the house" outfit. as I was sitting on the floor going through

My shoe bucket 

( yes I have a shoe bucket😜) 

And completely putting strain on the poor giant scar on my back.

I found my old ballet slipper .

And when I saw it.. I couldn't help but smile.

My body has always been broken.

But when I was younger, and healthier. 

One of my favorite things in

This world to do was to dance ballet.

I was far from talented 

And even further from graceful 

But dancing made me feel like I was in a small way overcoming my greatest weakness. 

At the studio.. When I would see older dancers, I would notice that their ballet slippers were always completely beat up. Full of holes, black Marks, and scuffs 

And I wanted ballet slippers that looked just like theirs.

To me beat up ballet shoes were the sign of a great dancer. 

Every scratch and blemish on those shoes, proved that they worked hard to get to

The level of talent that they were at. 

So I practiced my little butt off. I worked at my pirouettes, grand jetès, Rond de jambes, and proper pliès as much as my body would allow. 

All in the hopes that if I worked hard enough I would earn the right to have holes in my ballet slippers . 

I remember one day when I was about 12. I was in class, and I went to put on my ballet slipper.  And I saw that there was a hole starting to form right on top of my big toe on the slipper. 

And it was one of the proudest days of my young life. 

No matter how hard I try. 

I can't get bring myself to get rid of these ballet slippers.

Because even though I was far from a talented dancer. 

I earned every scratch, scuff and hole In those slippers.

They are my ballet badge of honor. 

Now my days as a dancer are over. 

And instead of idolizing a pair of shoes that are beat up and  full of scars.

I live in a body that's beat up, and full of scars. 

I wonder if one day, I'll stare at my scars, with the same look of love and admiration that I give these beat up ballet slippers.

That, when I look at my scars I won't see these lines across my body as broken pieces , or imperfections.

But I will see them, as a badge of honor.. because I worked my little butt of, and I EARNED every bruise, blemish, stretch mark, and scar on my body. 

We all come to this world perfect and unblemished. 

And aren't our scars proof, That we came here,

We worked hard, 

And we  have earned who we have become?

Keep moving forward, and always smile on ❤