Scars

I'm happy with the scar right above my eye because it's way preferable to having my eyeball torn out, which was another possibility.

 

My scars have good stories behind them. I usually tell folks the one on my left leg is from scraping up against coral reef while scuba diving near a ship wreck off the coast of New Zealand. A side benefit is that it forced me to read up on New Zealand, which I found fascinating.

 

You just need a good editor!

 

When I see scars I just have empathy for the person, because it probably hurt when they got it. Other than that, I don't really think about scars that much. I would assume everyone has at least one. My husband cut a third of one of his fingers off. He also has a big scar on the side of his hand from the skin graft. He also has some other smaller scars. He has one on his chin. Off the top of my head I can't think of others, even though I know there are more.

As for meeting a stranger, I can see how a scar could be attractive.

Thanks to my little monster I have a big one, but I don't mind it at all.

 

I have one on my 4th toe.

 

I kinda like the scar just below my lower lip, dating back to the time I fell on my chin on a bike crash, driving my teeth clean through.

The Frankenstein scar across my skull from another bike wreck? Not so cool. Thank God for long hair.

 

Mine goes the opposite direction on my back. They had to go in through my side after I broke my back because the break was really close to my spinal cord. It took over 200 staples to close. I'm really self-conscious about it, but I remember getting a lot of surprisingly positive attention about it in the year or so after I had the surgery. There was one woman who approached me on a cruise and just kept running her finger along the scar. It really creeped me out, but she was hot so I let it happen... There are some strange people out there... Granted, that was like 14-15 years ago.... I've been with my wife for almost a decade and she's never made a single comment about it. Thank God...

 

I've got about a 12- to 16-inch scar on my left side that goes up behind my shoulder from surgery when I was 10. And I've got about an inch-long scar on my left thumb where I cut myself with a Swiss Army knife when I was 9.

Neither are glamorous stories (bad luck and clumsiness), and neither have helped me get any chicks. I feel gypped.

 

You still have four toes? Thought you'd be down to two or three by now.

 

Well I know karate, Voodoo too
I'm gonna make myself available to you
I don't need no make up
I got real scars
I got hair on my chest
I look good without a shirt

Tom Waits, ladies and gentlemen.

 

My dad's hands and forearms were half white because of all the scars he had from working with his hands his whole life. It's one of the most powerful images I have of him before they closed the coffin lid and wheeled him out to the hearse.

My hands and forearms have scars, but nowhere near the level my dad had. My scars mostly aren't of the physical variety.

 

If you are talking about grossness, maybe you could relate with one of my friends who supposedly got scalded with boiling hot water on her legs and is now suffering from the pain, though surprisingly not on emotional pain since she copes with it very well. She even jokes about it. Once the blisters and wounds heal they would go to a dermatologist and see what could be done to save her once beautiful legs.