By Samantha Briggs

Reporter

Scars tell a story, they are like battle wounds. I have so many scars and bruises from my childhood, not from abuse or neglect, but from pure clumsiness.

As a child my nickname was the klutzy queen. It’s not a very creative name but it was fitting. I was the girl who fell on stage during a recital or graduation.

In the fifth grade I was in my first school play called the “Just So Stories.”

I played a dingo and I was supposed to chase my cast mate who was playing a kangaroo around the stage. Everything went great in rehearsal. Surprisingly I didn’t trip or anything.

Then came opening night, I walked on stage to do my big scene, I saw my family in the audience proudly looking up at the stage.

I began to chase the kangaroo around the stage when I was supposed to catch her, I fell face first on the stage floor. I was mortified. All I could hear were the gasps of the audience members and the faint sound of my older brother’s laughter.

My brother used to joke that I could trip over air. I would trip in the grocery store while holding my mother’s hand.  Due to my constant clumsiness, my family and friends got used to seeing me fall or drop things randomly but no one was prepared for what happened at my 11th birthday party.

My cousin and I were having a joint birthday party because our birthdays are 2 days apart.

Our parents worked hard to surprise us with a beautifully set up party.

The theme was Hercules, my favorite Disney movie. The tablecloths had Hercules and Megara on it; the cake had Hercules on it as well as the balloons and streamers.

I was so excited to see my entire family there to celebrate my birthday with me.

I remember doing a happy dance and then feeling my self lose my balance so I grabbed onto something to stop me from falling, unfortunately I grabbed the table-cloth that was covering the table that had the chips, dip, and my cake on it.

As I yanked the tablecloth the chips flew in the air and the cake hit the floor. I cried for what felt like hours. My mom told me it was OK but I couldn’t help but think I ruined everything.

I still have a scar on my leg from playing football with my brothers and cousins on summer break.

I didn’t hurt myself from the actual game but, because I am deathly afraid of bees and while I was waiting for my brother to pass me the ball, a bee spotted me so I turned and ran into a fence.

I have no idea how I forgot there was a fence behind me. My mother came running outside to see if I was ok and once again I heard my brother laughing at my despair.

I wish I could say I am no longer this clumsy girl, but I still fall when I attempt to dance, drop food and trip over air.

I used to be ashamed of being clumsy but now I’ve come to appreciate it as one of my many quirks.