Everybody always has something they don’t like about themselves. We are human, that’s what we do. Rather somebody else pointed it out to you, or you discovered it yourself, it’s there, and every time you look, you get that disgusted feeling all over your body. You’re brain telling you it’s okay you’re perfect but that little voice, that sits on your shoulder, telling you it’s not okay and making you hate yourself for it. Whenever someone looks in my direction, I always think they are staring at my scarred knees, even though half of the time they aren’t. They don’t look the best. Over the past couple of months I have come to accept my knees. The scars show that I have lived life to the fullest and sometimes made mistakes, but they always heal, leaving a little mark, reminding you that girl, you are THAT much stronger.