Our Scars

Illustration by Uri Smileyl VOX Stafff

Most teens have their fair share of scars. Whether we choose to add more skeletons to our closets or acknowledge our scars and deal with them, by sharing our stories we can vent and grow. Share your scar story on the VOX blog at VoxRox.org/blog. ­­—Machelle Tran and Crissinda Ponder/VOX Staff

Swollen and bruised
It was red and purple
Colors that were not so cool
To be on my face
Bruises there
Blood everywhere
On my face
In my eyes
Looks as if I’m in disguise
Pain and hurt
Shame and hurt
A single blow
Was all it took
Now take a look
You see what I see
No you can’t possibly see like me
Not through my eyes
Feel my pain
My mind going back to that awful day
I wished and I prayed all day
But my bruises wouldn’t go away
I was ashamed for weeks
I felt so weak
You took my strength away from me
You took all my strength
You tried to take my pride
You tried to take it all
My beauty was not far
It came back with a gift
A beautiful scar
—Michelle, VOX Girls Group

There are never two scars that are alike, at least on my body. Each scar has a story to tell, but there’s only one scar that sticks out for me. It’s the one on my nose. What makes this scar so special is not the story of how it got there, but how it impacted my life.

One rainy night I was at home with my family. I had been home all day because I was sick. I walked into my mother’s room to get some medicine, tripped on my mother’s Nike and hit my nose on the dresser. As I fell quickly to the ground, I landed on my nose. I was crying like a big baby, even though I believed that I was too old to cry. The funny part about it is, I had no tears.

As the weeks went by and my nose started to heal, my scar started to look like a Nike swoosh. At first I felt ashamed of it. I kept trying to hide it with Band-aids and makeup. but I just ended up looking stupid.

The same day I went to school with my new scar showing, I got my first pair of Air Force Ones. They were all black. (I still have them – they’re in mint condition.) At first I thought my mom was trying to be funny, but she was just trying to cheer me up.

So the next day when I went to school I had on my new shoes and some pants, rolled up at the bottom to look different. I had my hair braided so I took the time out to gel my edges down, brush my braids and spray oil sheen on them. I never wore earrings, but I decided to put on my mother’s silver hoop earrings. Since then I was encouraged to dress better not only to look good for other people but for myself because I figured if I dress pretty, I’ll look pretty. After that I became the stylist I am today.
—Nachelle, VOX Girls Group

I’m a type 1 diabetic. I was diagnosed about a year and a half ago. After about a year of having diabetes, I realized that the only way for me to heal my emotional wounds, was to tell people. Now I’m not scared to tell people, I feel more comfortable with this condition. I also decided that in order to heal, I couldn’t let diabetes control me because in actuality, I control the diabetes.
—Michelle Conner, Monroe Area High

It was the fourth quarter. Who would have thought my face would be scarred forever?

Our coach had given us our responsibility for the next defensive play, My helmet was strapped and face ready to punish whoever had to block me. During this play, I exploded off of the line, knocking down the center in my pursuit of the quarterback, but the guy grabbed my facemask and with his hand cut my face on my left side, which happens to be my good side. The play was over, 10 yard penalty holding on the offense, I knew that one was because of my explosiveness.

We were able to force a punt and when I got to the sideline my teammate said”Hey G, your face is bleeding.” I was like I can’t believe it. So as I got my face fixed and covered with a bandage and such. The scar was left and even today, when I look at the mirror, I say to myself, What was once a precious glow can be harmed, but you use what you have and turn it into a rose.
—Gerald Crawford, Grady High

My mother’s death scared me for life. I think that the painful memory will never leave me. I have lost a piece of my heart. She means everything to me. Losing someone that close to you is something that is hard to deal with. I hope nobody has to go through what I have went through at my age. Each day I look more and more like her. I will miss her, but I know that she is in a better place
—Talya Moffett, Walden Middle

These beautiful scars of mine
when they are shown
I’m hoping not to be talked about,
judged and not to cry
because it is not a crime
to have scars as beautiful as mine
They have a meaning and a reason
Some people can’t understand
They sit there and paint art and tease me
I wonder are there people out there
whose scars are as beautiful as mine?
There’s been a drastic change now
I am happy to show these
beautiful scars of mine
I don’t care anymore because
they can’t be defined.
­—Kezze, VOX Girls Group

Dear Me,
I really want to thank you for being with me when nobody else was there to have my back. You were there at times when I felt as if I didn’t want to live life anymore. You were there for me when I cried and needed someone to make me smile. You were even there when my moma wasn’t. When I told you I hated myself, you told me that I should love myself because there can be only one me. You were also there when I looked in the mirror and said to you I’m ugly, and I’m not good. You told me that if that was the case, I wouldn’t be here.
­­—Raven, VOX Girls Group