Photo By Kellsie Kennedy
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There they are. Â Three thin, pale lines crinkled at the top of my left thigh. Â Those are not the only ones, just the ones I see the most. Â They wrinkle as a memorial to a couple chubby years of middle school. Â I tell myself they look like tiger stripes.
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My stretch marks are the only scars that embarrass me.  I have circular scars along my ankles from old mosquito bites and there are crisscrossing lines from the heels I wore to prom my Junior year.  I had a quill, mountains and trees etched into my shoulder and ankles.  I even laugh when I retell how I chipped my front tooth.  Every one of my body’s marks has its own story.
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My stretch marks are different. Â It has become habit to wear shorts down to my knees. Â Every summer I flip through racks of swimsuits with the hope of finding something long enough. Â I keep towels wrapped around my waist when the suits are inevitably shorter than I want.
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I can not be the only one. Â It seems as though there is an unspoken rule that mothers have to stop wearing bikinis. Â Men wear shirts with longer sleeves to cover the red squiggles on their triceps. Â We are all ashamed, by why should we be?
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I ate pasta every day for three years when I decided to stop eating meat. Â It is quick and easy enough that a 12-year-old can do it. Â As you can imagine my school clothes were stretched until zippers broke. Â Nothing fit anymore. Â So, I ran. Â I ran and cut my carb intake until my clothes hung loosely. Â Picture Monica Geller, except my apartment is nowhere near as clean as hers.
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Now I have stretch marks just like everyone else who has lost or gained weight quickly. Â I imagine these will not be the only ones I acquire in my lifetime. Â It hit me recently that maybe I should stop being embarrassed. Â I have them, so what? Â My stretch marks and yours, are sort of like a trophy. Â If the scar on my knee reminds me of that great hiking trip in the Smoky Mountains, why should my stretch marks not tell of the time I worked hard to become healthier? Â
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We invest so much energy into becoming this ideal version of ourselves. Â Maybe if we could redirect our focus to forming into who we really are, we could start feeling more comfortable in our skin, stretched or not.
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