Why I Love My Scars | A Personal Post

When I was two years old, my parents and I visited some family friends in Oregon. Now, these friends had a pet dog they loved more than anything. That afternoon, they informed my parents it was a very friendly dog that loved to play with kids. I do recognize that it’s quite possible I wasn’t the most charming of toddlers. Maybe I pulled on its ear a little much or maybe I straight up punched it in the face. Who knows. Either way, I must have really ticked off this dog, because he decided to attack my adorable, chubby, little face. Continue reading “Why I Love My Scars | A Personal Post”