I am a female warrior.

I have earned the scars I wear.

Sometimes with shame or embarrassment.

Though they are earning my respect.

A friend once told me, “Women of our age can walk into a room with a different presence than when we were in our 20’s”

I am a female warrior.

These scars I wear came with great passion, pain, emotion….

They represent how I have evolved.

These scars tell a story.

The ones on my legs show the hours I spent on my feet working to pay the bills, to get by, to get an education.

I am female warrior and I am determined to wear my scars with pride.

The ones on my stomach were intimately stretched as a bore my two daughters.

I have scars.

Like Ricardo Arjona sung so beautifully, “No le quite años a su vida
Pongale vida a los años que es mejor”

As I move through my 30’s, leaving the 20’s further and further behind, I am also redefining my sense of what it means to be a woman. A beautiful woman.

Each scar I wear carries with it a story of the journey I’ve made in life.

My hands are worn—they have worked, they have written, they have carried, they have lived.

I am a female warrior.

And I am learning to be proud of my scars.