That's Just Perfect

I just read about Megan Fox's clubbed thumb. Awesome.

And I already knew about Tina Fey's scar. Fabulous.

These women make no excuses or attempts to hide their flaws. In fact, they barely acknowledge them.

I'm scarred, too.

No, not mentally. Although, God knows that's the truth. I'm referring to my physical scar. Can you see it?

That’s right. On my right upper arm. It happened about two and a half years ago. I'd gone hiking at Mt. Ophir in Malaysia during a vacation.  I'd made it to the top and decided that instead of retracing my steps back down, I'd be a little more adventurous and walk along side the waterfall. I stopped momentarily to take in the view when a gush of water knocked me off my feet and down. I was lucky I got away with just my humerus (shouldn't the funny bone be named as such instead ?!?) broken. Which according to the Doc's is the hardest bone to break...woohoo give it up for me now! ;0)

The result was a trip to the emergency room; insertion of a titanium plate, 6 screws and plenty of stitches for me. Unfortunately a keloid formed over the skin healed injury.

For all the different levels of angst and insecurity I've felt over the years, I’m surprisingly unaffected by the scar. I’ve had lots of people tell me that I should have it removed one way or another but really, what for? Like my tattoos, it has served as a great conversation starter.  People are intrigued by the scar and the story behind it.
I actually think it makes me a little more interesting.

But then, I'm the one attracted to the guy with the crooked smile or the funky cowlick in his hair. And I think the woman with the space between her teeth or the oddly placed mole is beautiful in such a unique way.

Let's face it. Perfection is overrated.

And more than a little boring. So, I'll keep my scar.

And we'll be just fine.