Every scar tells the story of a battle I didn’t choose but fought anyway.

I was proud of the fact that I’d made it (almost) through my 50s without wanting or needing plastic surgery. And then the trifecta of medical events upended my life for a minute. A partial hysterectomy followed five months later with Mitral Valve Heart Repair, and a year later, Triple Negative Breast Cancer.

When I came out of open-heart surgery, which I had been told was going to be done robotically and would leave minor scars under my right breast and rib cage, I was shocked to discover significant cuts across my right breastbone. I thought I had been in a knife fight during surgery! Hilarious, actually. There were more than 15 incisions, all on the right side of my body, where there had been tubes and drains. They were necessary for my doctors to fully repair my heart. It wasn’t an option to do without in the name of vanity.

Since I live at a clothing-optional resort, I wasn’t too thrilled that my once perfectly unscarred body was now covered in scars and bandages for all to see. But they were healing, as was I – both inside and out. Soon, they became badges of honor.

These scars—physical and emotional—aren’t flaws. They’re proof of survival. Evidence that I’ve walked through fire and come out the other side.

influencer culture airbrushes scars away, pretending life is all smooth skin and perfect moments. Inspirationalism honors them as badges of resilience and authentic living.

Your scars tell stories worth sharing, not for sympathy, but for solidarity.

Question: What scar—seen or unseen—has taught you the most about your own strength?