Skip to main content

Of Wounds and Scars

The other day, I had a conversation with someone who opened up about their fading scars, evoking a blend of nostalgia and sorrow. This made me reflect on the meaningful ties we have to the traces life imprints on us, and how each individual perceives them differently. Some strive to erase any trace of a scar, whereas others wear them proudly as symbols of valor. It's intriguing how every scar conceals a story, a small fragment of our personal journey.

The origin of scars stems from healed body wounds. The journey from wounds to scars can be a lengthy and challenging process, with the lessons drawn depending on the insights gained. When dealing with physical wounds, we either care for them to aid healing or disrupt the healing process by picking at them. Sometimes the itching or the allure of peeling the scab can be intriguing. Consistently picking at a wound prolongs healing and leads to scarring. This process can shape our perception of pain, the world, and our attachment to wounds, especially mental ones. These lingering mental wounds, which we struggle to recover from, can define our identity. Getting trapped in this loop makes it hard to let go of the scar, as it may feel integral to our existence. Yet, reflecting on physical scars teaches us that some wounds don't scar, and we strive to avoid similar injuries.

Likewise, with mental scars, learned helplessness can keep us stuck. However, it is possible to break free, though the time frame varies for each person. The key steps involve identifying the scars defining our identity, discussing them with a professional, understanding the reasons for holding onto them, listening to our inner needs, and finding healthy ways to address them. Seeking support from loved ones to aid in the healing process is crucial. Reassessing life goals with the belief in our capability for diverse possibilities is essential.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why Do Children Lie? (or even people of all age )

Written By  Keneikhrienuo Junia Dzuvichu This is a theme I often find myself discussing with parents and teachers. Many of them feel overwhelmed, anxious, even angry — and often begin to doubt their parenting or teaching when they find out a child has lied. It can be heartbreaking and confusing to hear a complaint from school or to catch your child in a lie. What I sense most in these moments is not just their concern over the act of lying, but a deeper fear: What does this say about my child? What does this say about me as a parent? Some respond with punishment, some try to reason and lecture about right and wrong, while others feel so uncomfortable that they choose to ignore it altogether. Just a day ago, a friend called me in distress. Her child’s teacher had asked to speak with her about a concern — her child had lied. I could hear the shock and fear in her voice, and also something subtler — guilt and self-blame. I began by sharing something I often tell other parents — Childr...

The Silent Epidemic of the Digital Age: Why More Children Are Struggling to Grow

I was recently in conversation with the Head of a school’s Special Needs division. She spoke with quiet urgency about a trend she’s been seeing—a dramatic increase in children needing special support. Not just academically. But emotionally, socially, and developmentally. And it’s not isolated. Across schools and clinics, more and more children are showing up with symptoms that look like autism, ADHD, or behavioral disorders. But the causes are not always neurological—they’re environmental. They’re cultural. They’re digital. Children are being raised by screens, not people. Access to technology at a very young age has changed the way kids grow. Tablets replace toys. Reels replace storytelling. Parents, overwhelmed and overworked, lean on screens because they have to. It’s not laziness—it’s survival. But the cost is massive. Many young children today: Struggle with eye contact Show delayed speech Can’t hold a pencil properly Don’t know how to play with others Get overstimulated or bored ...

The Customer Support for Life

Adulthood doesn’t just arrive with freedom and independence. Hidden in its fine print are a set of automatic subscriptions—stress, anxiety, pressure, burnout, and sometimes depression. None of us asked for them, yet they quietly come bundled with the “adult package.” The other day, while joking about this with friends, someone said, “I’d like to speak with customer care.” We laughed, but the thought stayed with me. If life really had a customer service helpline, who would be on the other end? The closest answer I’ve found is: counselors. Think about it. We turn to them when life stops “working” the way it’s supposed to. We bring them our toughest questions: Why does this feel so heavy? Why am I stuck? Why does this keep happening? They help us read the fine print—the hidden clauses of our thoughts, patterns, and emotions that shape our experience. And when we’re frustrated, angry, or lost, we vent. They listen. Not to judge, but to patiently walk us through the chaos. Of course, counse...