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Scars....

  • My brother, looking at a picture of someone with self harm scars on their arms:

    "Why would someone post something like that? That just encourages others to cut themselves.Just look at his arms, that's disgusting."

  • Me, almost in tears:

    "I don't think you understand. Who are you to say he can't show his arms because of his scars? You don't know what he's been through, how much suffering he had to have been in to think that the only resort was to drag a razor across his skin. I would date a guy with scars. He's beautiful. Scars are just scars."

  • My brother:

    "Why would you want to go out with someone like that? His scars are ugly. He so emo."

  • My mind, as I walk away crying:

    "If only you knew. I'd want to date him because I know he'd understand. He know what it's like to feel like cutting is the only escape. To feel the need to carve the thoughts in our heads into our bodies, because we think we deserve it. Like we deserve to be punished. To feel like we are unlovable because of what we've done to ourselves."

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