And when two people have loved each other
see how it is like a
scar between their bodies,
stronger, darker, and proud;
how the black cord makes of them a single fabric
that nothing can tear or mend.

From Jane Hirshfield, “What Binds Us“

Glennon Doyle reminds us, “Write from the scar, not an open wound.” That makes sense to me. Writing from a scar happens when we write while we are mired in anger, fear, and suffering and our words become artillery for war not balm for our soul. I choose to write from my wounds. I choose to write from love. Some suggest that each of us has a love language. Writing is my love language. It is one way I express my love.

Hirshfield explains our scars bind us. We all have scars. If our scars bind us in real and important ways, then I aspire to write in ways that invite others to understand the oneness of our scars. Our scars make us whole. Our scars tell stories. We connect in story. Our stories bind.

Writing from the scar is not easy. Holding a mirror up to myself and my world takes vulnerability and courage. Sometimes I am more courageous than others. Sometimes I sit down and eat a sandwich. Sometimes I doom scroll Twitter. Sometimes I allow myself to be vulnerable. Sometimes I let others in. Sometimes healing occurs. That is the beauty and terror of writing itself. That is beauty and terror of love, too.