So I got a henna right and I asked the woman to do it on my forearm, near my scars.
As she was doing the first flower, she looked at them and with the most innocent and friendly voice she said ‘You make barcode.’ And we both giggled, and I said ‘Yeah, I made barcode.’ And I dunno I guess it caught me off guard to have someone not look upon them with shame or disappointment, and make them into something positive, something that makes them worth looking at with a new perspective: they make me, me.
The lady did not draw over them, though I asked her to, she said ‘No, it’s unique, I don’t cover it.’ And I guess it just made me feel, special, and almost proud of who I am and that I’ve been able to push through any struggles I have faced, even though I have self harmed, I’m still here, and my scars make me who I am.