Reblog if you would still love someone even if they had self-harm scars.
I fail to see why someone couldn’t love another person if they have scars from self harm. They’re just like any other scar; a mark on the flesh of the hardships we’ve been through.
I sucking hope people reboot this
if people can love me with my entire body scarred up from surgeries then they can love people who felt no choice but to self-harm.
I love me (well, most of the time)…I hope others can, too…
it’s been one year and eight months since i’ve self-harmed. no cutting, burning, attempting. nothing. one year eight months. wow.
it’s crazy to think about it.
if i had killed myself, i wouldn’t be here.
if i cut too deep, maybe hit an artery or bled too much, i wouldn’t be here.
hell, if any twist in the road had gone differently, i wouldn’t be where i am right now, or even who i am.
i wouldn’t be sitting here after playing uno and bananagrams for four hours with this boy, this crazy adorable sweet silly caring understanding mysterious wise inspiring honest beautiful young old soul, this enigma of a boy. when all attempts failed, when i had nothing to believe in for myself, i wish i knew about this. sitting here feeling nothing but joy and hope and love. i wish i could tell myself two years ago and three years ago and five years ago just how much better it gets for me. i wish i could tell myself to believe in myself and in my future, to trust in god and in life.
but i’m here. i’m alive and breathing and this friend (who i don’t know what i did to deserve) is getting ready for bed and i just can’t express how incredibly blessed i feel to be a part of my own life today.
seventeen months since I’ve self-harmed. that’s five hundred and seventeen days in a row that I haven’t cut, burned, or attempted. today I am going to spend the afternoon with one of my best friends and tonight I’m going to see a bunch more of my favorite people. I am NOT sad today.