Her body is covered in stories.
That scar on her forehead from the time she cracked it open when she was 3.
Plenty of scars on her hands from various wire cuts, knife slips, and rope burns.
The light sprinkle of freckles across her nose, and some on her shoulders, proof of her love for the sunshine.
The faded scar next to her eye from going a little too fast through the oak brush after some stray cows.
The funny scar on her stomach from an obnoxious gelding who took a nip one day.
That patch on her elbow from the day her colt bucked her off... That one reminds her of the nice black eye she received that day along with her broken elbow.
The stretch marks that cover her sides and lower belly, proof of the miracles she's brought into the world; and the C-section scar, a reminder of the life-saving surgeries for both of her babies.
Her body is covered in stories.
At a still-so-young 25 years of age, she's grateful for every single imperfection she's earned, proof of the full life she's lived so far.
And when she's old and grey, she'll show them to her grandkids. She'll tell them the stories that go with them, and why she's so dang proud of her imperfections.
All of the memories of a life well lived are tattooed right there on her skin. She might not keep a journal, but her body is covered in stories.
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