The scratched knees of Adult-hood

Were you one of those kids that always had a scab on your knee? I was. Clumsy. – yes, curious – yes, naturally good bike rider – hmmm… You get the picture.

Scabby knees were a fundamental part of growing up for me. The slightly ugly scars of having tried. The thing about scabbed and scratched knees is that you could see the damage and know you were hurt, rest and get up again and try again.

As a grown up the metaphorical scabbed and scratched knees are invisible, painful as fuck – for sure, but actually visible? Very rarely. And when we don’t see something I wonder if we really allow for its existence? I think we carry on. Or we don’t carry on but either way, we forget that the fall even happened.

Which is why things feel harder, because we forget they should feel hard, that we just got up after a fall and got on with life, scratched knees and all.

So when things feel hard, don’t forget that falling can be painful, but the scabs you earn in your experience are marks of your resilience and ability to try again. So even if they are invisible, don’t forget they are there and you have grown from getting them.