Why you should reveal your scars

The standard list of must-haves in a future husband for many a woman reads like this; tall, loving, faithful, God-fearing and financially stable. The one for men lists home-maker, beautiful and ready to settle down. I came across mine, done years before I was prepared for marriage. I used to keep a journal, which now reads like a script of a teen flick drama.

My list is neat, labelled Must Have, Would be Nice and Can’t Deal in three columns. I do not know which books I was reading then or whom I was listening to, seeing as there was no internet, but I should have been enjoying teenage life and not taking life so seriously.

What catches my eye is the number two item on the Must Have list. He must come from a stable family, and his parents must still be alive and married to each other. I cannot describe how many incredible young men I dismissed because they had sob stories about their dysfunctional families. I have never shied away from speaking about trauma from my childhood, but I was very clear from early on that I did not want a husband with ghosts from his childhood. Mine was enough for the two of us. On this list, by the way, is a mention that his ushago must have water!

 Please, do not ask about this one. Water and my village can make a whole story in a three-series book! Anyway, my Must Have demand was based on Ben Rogers Muriithi, a psychosocial counsellor and a recovering addict, referred to as scars. I had a scar from my childhood, a dysfunctional family and I hid it in shame. I wished to forget it. What I did not know then is that everyone has a scar of sorts. You cannot go through life without getting bruised.

“What matters is what we do with our scars,” Ben Rogers says.

Many of us are ashamed of our scars. As a child, I remember making up tales when the truth was too shameful or unpleasant. One time in school, the teacher asked us to write a composition about our families. The assignment was phrased in a very insensitive manner that assumed that each child had a father, mother, brother, and sister. We were to write about each of those members of our family and explain what our parents did for a living. I went into overdrive with my tale. I created my perfect family, the one I had always envisioned in my mind. My siblings remained the same, but my parents had whole identities. The teacher read my tale in class as Norah, my best friend and distant relative who knew my family well, looked at me like I had grown a beard.

“Who are you?” I could read the question in her look. I looked straight ahead when the teacher asked me to elaborate further on what my father did for a living.

“He is a Youth.”

The only ruling political party back then, KANU had youth movements. There was talk, in my village, of people being recruited. The other children were very impressed, considering that no one, including yours truly, understood what that job title meant. The teacher struggled to hide her laughter but eventually laughed out loud when I explained that my father was a Government Youth.

I realised I was about to spin a tale the other day when a neighbour saw the fresh flowers in a vase and commented while making a delivery.

“Wow! Your husband must be the romantic type.” I smiled, feigning a dreamy look, because I wished Hubby would grow some romantic streak in him. But I caught the tale in time before it would become a full-fledged lie.

“Well, I buy myself the flowers,” I said, wiping off the fake smile.

It is easy to hide our scars behind smiles, jokes and overcompensation because we are ashamed of them. Revealing our scars uncovers our vulnerability. It is a sign of love and acceptance. It tells the other person, especially your spouse, that you are human, and they can be one too, safely, with you.

“When we spice our lifestyles and hang on to self-righteous acts, we deny a struggling person a point of reference,” Ben Rogers says, adding that scars are part of us. “I am a product of my scars. They remind me of the lessons and motivate me to make better decisions.”

Karimi is a wife who believes in marriage. [email protected]