I looked at my body. My fingers methodically tracing the jagged scars on my soft chest. The healed and blanched scar that snakes down the length of my taut belly.
They say these are my warrior scars, part of the tapestry of my life. All I can do is say I’m sorry … to the little kid that was born with a perfect child’s body, the one that played in the trees like a spider monkey, built forts of billowing white sheets made for a princess with red auburn curly hair and had tea parties with Bear.
She had no idea there was a monster, a thing awaiting inside of her. Quietly given to her by her unknowing parents, a gift of everlasting physical and emotional pain on par with any disaster imagined.Read more on themighty.com