I move through life, physically unscathed. I don’t have scars of living slashed across my flesh; showing people my vulnerabilities and my truth.

No, I have layers; protecting me from prying eyes and hands that want to poke and prod: to see if my skin can be moulded into something pliable, so that they can understand and see.

But, maybe, that is how life should be lived. Bare it all, expose yourself.

Remove the barrier that protects you from sharing your authentic self with the world.

How else can people get to know you?

Be real, be scarred. Show others your flaws and faults because maybe then they will show you theirs.

You will see a kaleidoscope of life etched within them. A secret life they have chosen to share with you.

Just as you gift them a glimpse into a youniverse previously unknown.