I wore short sleeves without explaining the scars

Dear Delyara, I have scars on my arms from a period of self-harm in my twenties. For fifteen years, I wore long sleeves in every season and rehearsed excuses for heat. Therapy helped me understand the scars as evidence of survival rather than shame, but understanding did not make public exposure easy. I began by wearing short sleeves at home, then around trusted friends, then during a quiet walk. Today, I wore a short-sleeved blouse to work. Two people glanced. One colleague asked whether I had been injured. I said, “They are old scars,” and changed the subject. I did not offer my history to make her comfortable. At lunch, sunlight touched skin I had hidden for half my life. I did not suddenly love the scars. I simply stopped organising my wardrobe around the possibility that strangers might misunderstand them.