Personal Reflection
Scars tell the stories we’d rather forget, but they’re also proof of survival. I used to hate mine—both the ones on my skin and the ones no one could see. They felt like evidence of failure. But over time, I’ve come to see them differently. They’re not just reminders of pain—they’re marks of endurance, proof that I’ve been tested and still here. Strength isn’t found in untouched surfaces; it’s found in what’s been broken and remade.
Reflective Prompt
What scar—physical or emotional—tells a story of strength in your life?
Memoirs of Madness 