Natalie Kate Meehan seeks not to fade her scars, but to heighten her memories. Here?s why she wears her wounds with pride.
So, I?ve been in remission from Crohn?s Disease for a couple of years now – minus a few blips here and there – and there aren?t too many reminders now of those previous ?Not Good? years. There?s the extra padding around my waist and my thighs, no space in my jeans, no baggy waistlines. There?s the handful of white tablets I throw down with my morning coffee with little thought. I don?t pay much mind to the day-to-day living with a dormant disease ? in fact, I forget most of the time that it?s even there.
The one time I do remember that I?m a full-time representative of the NHS is when I go on holiday and put on a bikini, and notice the little shiny beads on my stomach – the four puncture holes from previous surgery. But I like them. They remind me I?m lucky. I?m okay now. I?m able to eat what I want, which is the main thing, of course. But the outward scars remain. I often hear people talk of their own scars as though they?re a bad thing. And of course, they can be reminders of accidents, or bad times, generally things you might want to forget. I can understand wanting to forget a memory of a bad night out, an evening in hospital. I can understand the frantic rubbing of Bio-Oil into a jagged reminder of a bike accident or a fall down the stairs.
But I find them useful. My scars pinpoint moments I otherwise barely remember; I wish I co...