Stretch marks: Perfect imperfections
In my early years I would laugh and troll people with stretch marks. To make matters worse in my society people would say that it's a sign/ indicator of sexual prowess. OH MY God really , so we got Goddesses strutting in this little country, I would laugh my lungs out. I don't know who had appointed me to be a judge. Little did I know that this sporty figure was going to change for good. It jus had to lie in wait for me post my seventeenth birthday. Boom the wavy, ugly ( so I thought) lines made it to my boobs. For God's sake of all the areas they could be. I wept. My joy had been quickly taken, wiped rather. I was still celebrating moving from cup size A to a whooping C.
I begin being conscious. I no longer want to dress up in the presence of my friends or roommate. I was still in high school and at a boarding school. I felt as if their eyes would be focused on those lines( how lame right). I felt they would judge me the same way I did to other people. Jus as I predicted one of my close friends noticed. She just stood there speechless. I stood there wishing if only I could sink into the floor and vanish. I couldn't say much. We just had a mumbled conversation and up until now we haven't spoken about. Guess she saw the pain in my eyes. I was devastated by these wavy lines. I thought they were taking away my sexiness. They were making me ugly.
Early 20's my soul died. The arms caught up with the new normal. The wavy straw coloured parallel lines appeared. My inner soul bled. One more time my best friend mocks me and says I would have to wear long sleeved clothes all my life. This hits me even harder. I cry internally ( few people have seen me cry). I have always internalized my pain and struggles. Remember I have endured all forms of body shaming. I have normalized the abnormal. So I sit down and Eureka! I got a plan. I pretty much love make up. I will use foundation to cover those marks. Oh yah it works. As I am busy strategizing , in all of it I don't notice my self esteem is depleted. My body image is ruined, gutted and buried.
You know I am smart right, so I start researching on remedies. Believe you me, I used the bio oil, the methylated spirit and potato juice( if only I had more fries lol). It was all a waste. The lines didn't go away. They became even more visible. Then I visit a dermatologist and I am told about this thing of injecting carbon onto the lines. He gives a stern warning about the pain both during the procedure and post recovery. As I had anticipated it's costly plus it requires a number of sessions. I can't stand a simple prick in the doctor's office, Now this. I rule it out.
I start reading about stretch marks in general. I conclude that it's really not a big deal. If 90% of us have them. I reflect and see that these lines are associated with ugliness. People try to find ways to self love by giving them nice terms. They don't face the truth as it is. These lines of mine are natural and I cherish them everyday. They don't make me less of a woman. They are beautiful. We need to remember that our stretch marks aren’t a sign of failure, letting ourselves go, or ugliness. We need to remember that everyone has them, regardless of shape or size. We have to remember that gaining weight is nothing to be ashamed about. But most importantly, we have to remember that our bodies are perfectly imperfect From the scars, rolls, marks ,curves, ridges and blemishes are stories that our bodies tell, and that’s one of the most beautiful gifts life could give us.
Keep it up, this is a beautiful piece
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DeleteWear long sleeves because you love the sleeves long and not because you aren't confident about yourself. Be you. Be bold. I love your piece. The majority of us relates.
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