My scars are complex - when seen, they are usually met with phobia and curiosity.
When I was 5 months young, I was under care, whilst my parents were away on long trips. There was nothing caring about the care. I was involved in an accident and in an attempt to cover up my injury I was not to be seen by a doctor or hospital.
I have endured 11 operations as a result, as an infant and throughout adulthood; my next prosthetic is due in a few months at 32 years old, and it will not be the last.
It is all that I have ever known, so it is difficult to be resentful; sure I struggled in adolescence - who doesn't.
I do hold my scars at times and wonder, how things would be different, yet I feel lucky enough to have a wife who will patiently put my sock and tie my shoe.
My scars are I, and have helped me become who I am today, so in a cruel twist, I am grateful of them.