The drive and the need for perfection is ever raging and all consuming. The physical being can no longer just be content in his or her own skin. We search for flaws, the desire to rid ourselves of any imperfections, scars and physical marks is increasingly epidemic.
Are we trying to go stay in our new born state of perfection, a silky smooth skin, flawless, unmarked…unused?
The need to be be this way has become so worrying. I meet beautiful beings who are so worried about the scars and marks on their face or body that they refrain from sex, refrain from love and refrain from life.
Our skin tells a story of where we’ve been, the person we are and the person we are yet to become. The scars we bare are natural and were meant to belong exactly where they lie. Whether from an accident, self infliction or from someone else’s hand, all have been acquired by a certain suffering and pain.
All scars are a journey that is solely ours, they show a struggle and expose a reality. Your skin tells a story than sometimes words could never do justice to. To wish them away would mean changing your whole history, taking away your identity and denying what you’ve been through.
Our skin has an important job to do, it’s a barrier, a guardian, it takes the beatings for us and protects us from harm. For it to stay perfect we would have to sit quietly in a lonely room forever. We would not be allowed to love, to make love, to travel, to take risks, to take any pleasure from the world.
So the only way to stay perfect in this imperfect world is to never live at all. I’d rather keep my scars.
Photography by Fernanda Moreno ©