Some people love their scars. Some hate them. Most of us sit somewhere in between, not quite ashamed of them, but not exactly celebrating them either.
And that’s OK.
When you’re dealing with cancer, especially something like bowel cancer where surgery is a huge part of treatment, scars are a given. Whether it’s a long abdominal incision, keyhole ports, stoma sites, or even your chemo port scar, they all leave a mark. And not just physically.
But here’s the truth that doesn’t get said enough:
You can be grateful for your body and still hate what it’s been through.
Scars Are Proof of Survival, But That Doesn’t Mean You Have to Like Them
We hear it all the time: “Your scars are your strength”, “They’re your warrior marks”, or the classic, “Be proud of what your body has overcome.”
And yeah, for some people, those phrases resonate. They look at their scar and feel empowered. But for others, it’s not that simple.
You might look in the mirror and feel frustrated. Disconnected. You might remember the pain, the trauma, the hospital stays, the fear. You might wish your body didn’t have to wear that story on the outside, a story you didn’t choose.
You’re allowed to feel all of that. Being proud of your resilience doesn’t mean you have to love the physical reminders.
The Weird Relationship You Develop With Your Own Skin
After surgery, your body doesn’t just bounce back. It shifts. Moves differently. Feels different. And your relationship with it changes too.
- You might cover up your scars instinctively, even if no one’s looking.
- You might touch them absent-mindedly during moments of stress.
- You might avoid mirrors. Or stare too long into them.
For some people, scars become just another part of their body, neutral, familiar. For others, they’re a trigger for deeper emotions: grief, loss, even anger. And sometimes… they’re all of those things at once.
There’s no rulebook for how you’re meant to feel. So don’t beat yourself up if your feelings are messy.
You Don’t Owe Anyone a Positive Spin
If your scar stories don’t come with inspirational captions, that’s fine. You don’t need to reclaim them as badges of honour if you don’t want to. You don’t have to pose for a #MyScarMyStory photoshoot or use them to inspire others unless you actually want to.
Sometimes your scars are just… there. Silent witnesses to what you’ve been through. You don’t owe them love. But you don’t owe them hate either.
They’re part of you, not the whole of you.
Stomas, Ports, and the Stuff People Don’t See
Some scars are easier to hide. Others, like stomas or visible chemo ports, can feel like a constant reminder of your diagnosis, especially when they change how you dress, swim, sleep, or even shower.
There’s often a grief that comes with those scars. A grief that no one talks about. Not just about your appearance, but about privacy, autonomy, control. The feeling that your body has been taken over by something else, by cancer, by treatment, by survival itself.
And again, you can feel grateful for being alive and still resent the shit out of what it took to get here. That duality is real. You’re not being ungrateful. You’re being human.
And Then There’s the Emotional Scars
Even when the physical wounds heal, the emotional ones often don’t. Or at least, not as cleanly.
You might flinch when someone touches you near a surgical site. You might feel rage when you see a happy, healthy body on Instagram. You might cry randomly in the shower because your body doesn’t feel like yours anymore.
Those are scars too, just less visible. And just as valid.
It’s OK to talk about them. To seek help. To grieve. To grow. Emotional healing isn’t linear. And just because you’re functioning doesn’t mean you’re fine.
If You’re Struggling With How You Look Now, You’re Not Alone
Whether it’s dating, intimacy, body confidence, or just feeling like yourself in your own skin, adjusting to the post-cancer version of your body is hard. It takes time. It takes compassion. And it takes letting go of the idea that you have to bounce back into your old self.
You’ve been through something massive. You’ve earned the right to feel weird about it.
Let yourself be messy. Let yourself be proud. Let yourself be pissed off. Let yourself heal.
There’s no one right way to feel about your scars. But there is one wrong way and that’s believing you’re not allowed to feel anything at all.
Final Thought
Your scars are yours, no one else gets to tell you how to feel about them. If you hate them, that’s valid. If you love them, that’s valid too. And if you don’t know how the hell you feel… join the club. Just know that whatever you’re feeling, you’re not alone in it.
Message from the author:
Thank you so much for reading. I truly hope you found this blog helpful. If there’s anything you’d like to see covered in a future blog, or if you have thoughts or questions about what you’ve read, please feel free to comment below or send me a message. I also hope you take a moment to explore the rest of my page. There’s plenty of additional information for bowel cancer patients, caregivers, and anyone wanting to learn more.
Disclaimer:
I do my best to keep the information here up to date and relevant, all while navigating my own cancer journey. Just a gentle reminder: I’m not a healthcare professional, I’m a cancer patient sharing what I’ve learned along the way. Everything shared here is general information and may not be right for everyone. This is not medical advice, and you should always consult your healthcare team before making any changes that could impact your treatment.

