<http://schema.org/articleBody>
"You can keep your camouflage creams \u2014 I like my scars. They tell the story of who I am. They remind me that God built me with the will to persist and overcome and heal and be the better for it. Mine fall into these categories: Scars of Inexperience The first scar I ever got is one I don&amp;#039;t even remember. My mom tells me that when I was 2, I was carrying a glass and fell on it. The glass broke and nearly sliced my finger off. Now that I&amp;#039;m a mother, it&amp;#039;s not hard to imagine what a day in hell that must have been for her. This scar makes me appreciate what it must have been like to parent a child who&amp;#039;s oblivious to her own limitations.  Another &amp;quot;learning scar&amp;quot; came from a bad spill I took while figure skating. It hides in a fold that is promising to become a double chin. When I pull stubborn little hairs out of it, I&amp;#039;m reminded of the hard-won victory of mastering a difficult jump and the satisfaction that was the reward for persistence. Scars of Stupidity When I was 16, I worked at a drugstore. My job was removing old price stickers with a razor blade and replacing them with new ones. One day, the blade slipped and sliced cleanly through my pants and into my thigh, leaving a three-inch gash. I still remember the look on the pharmacist&amp;#039;s face when I came hobbling toward him bleeding out of the side of my pants.  I also have a scar that runs around the tip of my index finger, where I nearly cut it off with a pair of pruning shears while doing yard work. I remember the hand surgeon saying, &amp;quot;You mean you did this to yourself?&amp;quot; These scars remind me that I am an &amp;quot;experiential learner,&amp;quot; which is a polite way of saying I have to learn things the hard way. Scars of Misfortune I have another three-inch scar at the base of my throat, where a surgeon relieved me of my cancerous thyroid when my son was about 8 months old. My mom came to Texas and took care of the baby, while I went through the long recovery and period of isolation required with radiation. I also have a one-inch scar on my groin, where a surgeon (whose face I never saw) extracted my badly misbehaving appendix. This happened at a time in my life when I was single and living alone. A girlfriend carried me to her car and took me to the hospital. When I woke up the next morning, she was sitting next to my hospital bed praying over me. Those scars remind me that life can come crashing down on you in the blink of an eye and that a friend can make all the difference. A Scar of Blessing And then there is the mother of all scars, the one that put an end to my bikini days but was the beginning of a life far better than any day at the beach. When I look at it, I recall the day, three years ago, when my son was pulled from the safe haven of my body and into this world, where he would begin the story of his own life. And collect his own scars. Sometimes sweet, sometimes tart, but always real, Tina Anderson blogs at Antiquemommy.com. NEXT: Why This Mom of Five Loves Her Stretch Marks \u00BB Related Stories: \u2022 This Tattoo Artist Conceal&amp;#039;s Burn Scars \u2022 Embarrassing Skin Issues \u2014 Solved! \u2022 This Instagram Account Celebrates Stretch Marks "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/beauty/anti-aging/a17319/tina-anderson-blogger-on-beauty-of-scars/>