This is how sad my life is: I got a scar from scratching my chicken pox too much. That's my big scar story. I really have no major scars.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Scars show toughness: that you've been through it, and you're still standing.
I just want to show off my scar proudly and not be afraid of it.
I got scars on my face that tell some kind of story. I'm looking in the mirror, and I got one scar that's really two scars - half from a baseball bat and half from playing football in college. I'll tell you, though, after a while, your face gets so wrinkled up you can hardly see them.
I have a scar on my forehead. I was three years old, jumping on the bed with my brothers, and I fell off and hit my head on the dresser and cut it open, went to the hospital, got stitches, came home, went back on the bed, jumped with my brothers, fell again, and reopened the stitches.
I just don't want to die without a few scars.
My scar is beautiful. It looks like an arrow.
I have scars on the backs of my arms from dressers in Paris scraping me with pins as I was taking a shirt or gown off.
I had a job when I was 15 working at a supermarket, and I knocked over a stack of plastic coffee cups. In my anger, I threw one at a concrete wall, and it rebounded back into my head and cut my head open. Stupidest way to get a scar, but it's one that I have.
I have a lot of scars, man. My mother said that a man is not a man unless he has a scar on his face. And what she meant by a scar was some kind of battle that you had to go through, whether it was psychological or physical. To her, a scar was actually beautiful and not something that marred you.
I have a big scar in my thigh from a dog bite by my German shepherd. His name was Ripper. He was trying to get in a fight with another dog, and I tried to break it up, and he got me pretty good.