Have you ever had surgery? What for?
When I was a kid, I had to get my appendix taken out.
Let me tell you — it was dramatic. And honestly? Probably the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.
I thought it’d be like in the movies — a quick hospital trip, a popsicle or two, and then boom: back to normal.
Except… I took forever to recover.
Weeks of soreness, weird stomach feelings, and missing out on everything from Halloween to the Scholastic book fair. (devastating.)
After that, I hated hospitals. The constant beeping, the smell, the cold fluorescent lights — all of it made my skin crawl.
But once I got home, healing started to feel a little softer.
I curled up in bed for days, watching movie after movie and pretending they were medicine.
(Classic Disney, early 2000s romcoms, fuzzy VHS tapes — peak comfort.)
Looking back, that might’ve been the first time I realized that healing doesn’t always look like progress.
Sometimes it looks like pajamas, soft blankets, and watching The Princess Bride on repeat while your body takes its sweet time figuring things out.
The thing that stayed with me the longest, though? The scar.
Still there, even now.
Very noticeable — except not really, because these days it blends into stretch marks and soft belly folds and the rest of my very real, very lived-in body.
As a teenager, I hated it.
I remember tugging at my swimsuit, wrapping myself in towels, trying to hide it — like it was something I had to be ashamed of.
But now?
It’s just one small part of a body that holds so many stories.
A quiet reminder that I made it through.And honestly?
Still a smoother recovery than the time I broke my collarbone.
That one was ✨pure chaos✨