The story (or fake story) behind my most obvious scar is actually what bought me my infinitesimal modicum of internet fame. Depending on what version you hear, I either had a hideous accident with eye makeup, sacrificed my left eye to the Illuminati (but only the Nigerian chapter) or I got glitter in my eye after crafting with my kid. The end result, though, is always the same - a scar in the form of an empty socket where my left eyeball should be.
The true story, by the way, is option three. Craft glitter is no joke, fam.
Anyway, since most people know that story - or can google it - I'm not going to go into the finer details. Instead, I will regale you with the story of my other facial scar.
It's small - so small that only I and the Trinidadian miracle worker who threads all my face-fur can see it clearly. It's a tiny bald spot in my left eyebrow caused by my childhood obsession with this guy: Dr. Indiana Jones
I was but a pudgy and impressionable child when the Indiana Jones films came into my life. Temple of Doom was, and still is, by far my favorite. Toward the end of the film our hero finds himself dangling on a rope bridge on the wall of a cliff.
For whatever reason, this scene spoke to my melodramatic soul and I just knew I needed to reenact it. I feel like now is the time to mention that adult-me isn't even five feet tall and literally falls over if I stand still for too long. Child-me was no more athletically talented, had even worse balance, and was about as round as I was tall.
Things were not going to go well, I assure you.
So I'm sitting in my living room one day and the spirit of Dr. Jones just moved my artistic soul. The scene needed to be acted out, right now. I needed a cliff - but what could I use?
This was Manhattan, there was no chance my mom was letting me outside unsupervised, which was probably for the best because I absolutely would have attempted to scale our apartment building for the sake of my character.
Then I realized - the entertainment center would be perfect! I knew nothing of gravity, physics or counterweight. It would be years before I grasped what a stunt crew was. If Indiana Jones could do it, I could do it.
So I grabbed a bag, threw some toys in it as stand-ins for the sacred stones, and got to climbing. I made it about three-quarters of the way up this ceiling-high entertainment center before I felt it - almost imperceptibly - start to shift forward.
Did I call out for help? Well ... kind of... but not to my parents. Instead, I stuck to the role and angrily shouted "You betrayed Shiva!"
My parents (knowing that couldn't possibly be a good sign) came running into the living room just in time to see the entire entertainment center collapse forward on top of me. Shiva must have been listening or something because I managed to fall into one of the relatively unoccupied squares, coming out with only a scratch over my eyebrow from where a shelf grazed me on the way down.
It didn't even bleed. My eyebrow hair never grew back in that spot, though - which would screw up my quest for brow perfection in my 30's but whatever. I played the role perfectly. Harrison Ford would be proud and/or horrified. Maybe both.
Reddit User ragedknuckles asked:
Most of the stories are way cooler, more traumatic or less nerdy than mine. That doesn't mean they're any less interesting, though. Here were some of the responses that stood out.
"Mama Didn't Raise No B*tch"
I have three different cigarette burns on my right arm that have never went away.
The first one came from me being incredibly drunk and telling my friends that they could burn me with it if they wanted because "mama didn't raise no b*tch"
The second one was from being really drunk a different time and my friends telling me that I was afraid to get burned with a cigarette again because it hurt too bad the first time.
The third time. You guessed it.
My mom also gets really upset every time she sees them. I can't tell if she's crying because she's upset that I permanently scarred my body, or if they're tears of joy because she can die knowing that she, in fact, didn't raise no b!tch.
A few months ago, I was sleeping and was shifting a bit in my bed. And when i say shifting, i mean SHIFTING. My face hit the corner of my wooden headboard, which is considerably sharp. I was pretty sleepy, so i didn't realize what had happened till I woke up. I woke up to red covering my face, which was pretty scary. I have a scar at my left eyebrow now.
Two Lucky Girls
My 6 inch emergency c section scar. I woke up 7 months pregnant to go to bathroom and right when I stepped on the floor, a HUGE gush then splash. I yell for my husband to turn on the light and it's all blood. I run to the bathroom gushing blood everywhere and sit on the toilet because I was in shock shaking and didn't know what else to do as my husband called an ambulance.
They put me in surgery right away. I lost 25% of my blood in the hospital, not counting ambulance and my home. My 3lb daughter survived the placental abruption and was born 2 months early. My father, who went to Vietnam twice, came to the house to clean up while I was in the hospital and said he didn't know if he'd see me alive again by the amount of blood there was. We are two lucky girls.
Alcohol, Coma, and a Flat Iron
I was a teenager and I got drunk. Then older teenage boys started pouring shots down my throat (like medicine) as I was passing out, trying to get me drunk enough for compliance.
When you get enough alcohol in your system, you fall into an alcohol induced coma. They got scared.
Long story short they ditched me and, by the grace of God, someone quickly found me and got me in an ambulance a few minutes after I stopped breathing. I was over way over the "lethal limit" and only survived because of medical intervention.
They released me because my parents demanded it, they were furious and probably embarrassed after 2 days of not knowing if I would wake up with brain damage.
Immediately after being released from the hospital I sat on the floor of my room straightening my hair - but I was sooo out of it I put the straightener down on my own leg AND LEFT IT THERE. Hair straighteners easily run 400 degrees.
I've had a lot of therapy and have moved on - but the burn scar will always be there to remind me.
Waffles And An Untrained Dog
When I was very small, like still in diapers, I was feeding my dog and my uncle's untrained and very large dog by tossing some leftover waffles. Uncle's dog stole one as I was feeding it to my dog and bit my thumb in the process.
My mom yelled "no" at him and he walked to the back of the yard then charged full speed at me. Not my mom, who had shouted at him, but at me, the crying toddler. I guess the crying really set him off.
My mom got there just in time to shield me from the attack. She always says it was the worst moment of her entire life, though not because of the pain. She says the worst part was wondering if she could run fast enough to get me out of the way.
The dog didn't let my mother go until my dad threw a piece of furniture at it. This dog was in fact euthanized after several weeks in quarantine to make sure it didn't have rabies.
The hospital sent animal control to pick up the dog, where it took 5 men to get him into the truck. He injured two of them. After his first quarantine period was nearly over and he was days away from being released back to my uncle, he severely injured a handler and was deemed too dangerous and euthanized after an extended quarantine.
My mom has somewhere around 15-20 scars on each arm. They're not small but not huge; just enough to cover most of her forearms.
I was a dunce two years ago.. I'm blonde so you already know where this is going. Me and my wife lived in an apartment and it snowed and dropped to about 32 degrees and I went outside at like 2 a.m. (being on night shift) left my phone wanted to see if your tongue does stick to metal... It did.. I didn't want to scream.. in a panic I just thought f--k it and ripped my tongue off leaving skin and taste buds 😂😂 after 3 hours my wife said why didn't you just spit on it.. my mouth dried up like a cotton ball.
Less Than Five Minutes
Playing hide and go seek as a kid. It was dark and I tripped on a small hole in the ground. My knee smashed into a rock. It ripped through my jeans and left me with a deep gash (from what I remember, I passed out). Still have a scar from it. What makes it so bad is that I was so excited about this outing with my best friends and I was supposed to spend the weekend with them. But instead I had to get stitches and spend the weekend in bed. Worst part is that it happened less than five minutes after the game started.
Trying To Save A Child
I have a 3/4 inch scar on my pinky finger from where I busted out a window to rescue a 4yo from a house fire. Then performed CPR on her until medics arrived (10mins or so). Unfortunately, the 4yo didn't survive. Hit close to home because my daughter was 5 at the time and we go to church with the family.
Bees In A BucketGiphy
I have a 4-inch long scar on my side. I got it when I was a kid trying to catch bees by jumping in the air towards low hanging branches to catch the bees in a bucket.
One time I jumped up but had a little bit of sideways momentum and impaled myself on the handle of a outdoor caged enclosure that held chickens. After un-impaling myself, I told my teacher what happened and she just said to rub soap and water on it.
No idea how I didn't get an infection or something but it healed up fine.
Ruining The Shirt
Scar on the back of my head from when I was two and I accidentally ran face-first into my aunt's @ss as she stepped out of the kitchen. I went flying back, apparently, and hit my head on the corner of the wall. My mom picked me up and kissed me where I hit my head—not realizing I was bleeding. When she pulled away, the scene turned into some straight-up Carrie sh*t, as her mouth was just covered in blood. My aunt, who was 13-14 at the time, was fairly certain I was gonna die.
911 is called, two squad cars, a firetruck, and an ambulance all show up to the scene. (Peaceful suburb in 90s Illinois... Nothing better to do, I guess.) I needed a few staples, but it was mostly superficial.
Apparently I didn't start crying until my shirt was covered in blood. According to my mom, I was really upset about ruining the shirt...
"It wasn't me!"
There's not much you can do when the righteous fist of the law comes down on you. Call it a mix-up, or call it a mistake, if someone's pegged you at the scene of a crime there's not much you can do but trust the justice system to prove you innocent. However, that's a gamble, and just because you've been given a "not guilty" doesn't mean the effects won't follow you for the rest of your life.
Reddit user, u/danbrownskin, wanted to hear about the times when it wasn't you, seriously, it was someone else, when they asked: