The Scar That Made Me Beautiful

I hate my scar...I hate myself.

As a child, that's what I used to say when I look in the mirror and see nothing but my big and deep scar, which I got from a dog bite when I was a toddler.

My father told me that I was playing with my food giving a spoonful to our dog. As a 2 year old toddler,our dog Snooky was my playmate, so instead of biting from the spoon that I gave to him he bit my right cheek. He said, I was hospitalized and operated in the E.R. because of my bleeding cheek. The doctors need to treat me asap because, unfortunately, our mutt Snooky has rabies. Hence, their rescue mission left me with a big scar in my cheek that left me insecure for years.

As I grew up, my scar became the subject of conversation or an ice-breaker to anyone who just met me or already knew me. Obviously, it was so freaking awkward. As a little girl, my classmates and playmates would really tease me mercilessly for having big scar on my face. I got the name 'Scar-face' or 'Mukhang may Peklat' from other kids. But to my childish awe and wonder, I gained friends. Not a lot but a few, buddies that aside from my younger siblings, that I can share my toys, stories and snacks with. Maybe, because my parents instilled being good to others, I'll be likeable.

There was a time when I went to our family doctor with my mom. Since, my scar made me very shy, I don't really look the strangers in the eye. The kind doctor tilted my chin, egged me to look in his eyes and gently turned to my right cheek. Then he told me and my Mom, that I have a pretty face but with an ugly scar. 'You need to smile more, hija, so that people will see your dimples instead of your scar' he said. But he suggested to my Mom that when I grew up, I can have a plastic surgery to have my scar removed. That time, plastic surgery wasn't so acceptable and available as today. To my childish mind, it's somewhat akin to a magic wand or wish from a genie, because it dispels something so ugly. Vaguely, I instantly wish that I'm a grown up, with a lot of money to have a plastic surgery, so that I can be beautiful. Little did I know then that I just commited a deadly sin at a very young age. Vanity - ever so subtle vanity. Not exactly subtle, isn't it?

During my adolescense, I'm still the butt of ugly jokes. Now, not with just with my scar, but having such a weird name. And I did either that I ignored them or cried secretly or fought back. Though, I know I have been good but alas, they were not to me. I cried really hard (secretly), when my pretty and bitchy classmate drew a sketch of me exaggerating my scar. From then, I made up my mind, that I'm gonna study hard and work harder to save for my plastic surgery. I don't feel any guilt for this influx of sheer vanity. I know I have the right to become beautiful so that I will be accepted and fell so normal like all the girls my age. Being a good girl or intelligent is not enough. The cliche 'Beauty is within' is simply a crap, to me it is made and said by ugly but kind and smart people, who wanted to make themselves feel good. My smiles become lesser because of this fierceness lurking inside of me. To me, this is what the ugly thing that all-girls school taught me. A stronger dose of Vanity.

So how come my scar made me beautiful?

I simply opened my eyes and look around and view farther and beyond. Thanks to my 20/20 vision! Seriously. I simply grew up for real, not just with the added years to my age, but with my heart and mind. I came to realize that beauty, like anything in this world, comes in different shapes, sizes, color, feel and even smell. Being in different places, different people have different definition or perception of beauty.

To simplify - beauty is something that pleases our senses. In my case, I realized that being true to myself is beautiful enough. Maybe not enough for me; but, yes to others, I am beautiful. No conceit here, but it's not just friends that I gained as I got older. A few admirers as well - young and old men of different colors.

My scar made me feel humbled to realize that beauty isn't everything, but simply part of a person's wholeness. Seeing it in a whole new light, it made me realize that my scar serve as a gauge to people I relate or associate with. It functions as a filter to those people who chooses or approve others based on their looks. Not with their personality nor intentions. With it, I never knew that such imperfection would have such a perfect role in my life. With an open mind, I am able to see and feel that in one way or another, of how much blessed I am for having the things and people, that others wished could have. A deeper realization proved that God gave each and every one of us a gift of Beauty. He simply wrapped it differently for each of us, waiting to be unwrapped and reveled by our Senses.

In time, my scar became smaller, less deeper. It always leaves a smile to my face, when I look at the mirror. I no longer said that I hated myself for having this scar. How could I? When I know that having it, made me Beautiful.


Oh, by the way, I didnt get to save for my plastic surgery. Since it's so impossibly expensive, I simply bought a very trusty concealer, for my scar. Vanity? Yes, forgivable feminine vanity.