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.
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