Cowardice

I'm going to be a bit self critical here. There is a part of me that I've been mulling over the past couple of days, that I resent.

You see, when I was 22 months old, I went exploring round my Gran's bungalow and somehow managed to sneak out of sight while my Mum was distracted. I then had the REALLY clever idea of deciding to tip a teapot on top of me.

Stupid!

As a result of my escapade, I sport a small scar on my left forearm and a relatively large one on my chest.

What I find hard, is the fact that there are people out there who have no choice but to publicly sport their injuries/imperfections, and they do it bravely, nobly... and I have the utmost respect for them... and yet here am I... able to disguise the big one with a t shirt (nobody really notices the one on my arm), and because I have the option to do that, I live in total fear of what people might say if they actually saw the scar? I never take my top off in public.

Why am I like this I wonder? I never had this problem as a child, not till I was a bout 16... that's when all my hang ups emerged.

So, to all those who are brave beyond words I can express, I salute you... and can only hope that one day I can share your valour.

I am pretty weak aren't I? But this is a place to be frank and honest, and to challenge myself and others for the future. I hope I can be willing to change.

Heck even my God wears his scars openly... what kind of chicken-wuss am I?