The Beauty of Being Remade

Jack is a great gift giver. Over the years, I’ve come to understand that he’s thoughtful, traditional, and sentimental when it comes to choosing gifts. Sometimes he misses the mark — usually when he tries to buy me clothes — but more often than not, he surprises me in the best way.

For our ninth anniversary — the pottery year — he gave me a beautiful bowl and, with it, my introduction to Kintsugi.

Kintsugi is a centuries-old Japanese art form in which broken pottery is repaired with gold. Rather than hiding the crack, the gold highlights it. The piece becomes more beautiful for having been broken.

I freaking love this.

Not only is the bowl stunning, but I love what it means. Honestly, I didn’t even realize it had been broken and repaired at first. I thought the “scars” were part of the design.

I guess the same can be said of people.

Our scars are part of our design.

No one gets through life untouched, and who we are today is shaped, in part, by what we’ve been through. Sure, some traits are innate. But so much of us is forged by circumstances, relationships, heartbreak, challenges, and loss.

Scars tell a story. They show where we’ve been and how we’ve come to be.

Jack and I found each other later in life. We were not exactly new and shiny. We came with some wear and tear. We carried our scars.

By the time I met him, I carried mine unapologetically. I had been single for a long time and had grown comfortable in my role as a single mom. During my dating years, I met a few people who tried hard to hide their scars. But when you carry some of the same scars, there’s an instant resonance. It’s like having a metal detector for relationship wounds. 

I could spot Jack’s scars a mile away. He didn’t exactly wear them proudly — more like reluctantly — but the important thing was that he didn’t try to hide them from me.

Over the years, we’ve talked about how our wounds made us perfect for each other.

I’m not sure we would have worked if we’d met younger. Back then, there might not have been enough gold yet. Too few cracks filled in for us to truly recognize the beauty in each other.

We’re different in a lot of ways. Jack likes a slower rhythm. He loves being home, putting on a movie, and keeping things simple. I tend to pack life in a little more — I like trying new things, going new places, and learning as I go. He wasn’t much of a student, while I loved school. He’s kind, quiet, and not the least bit attention-seeking — which, sadly, is probably why I wouldn’t have given him a second glance back in the day.

But those differences didn’t push us apart. They fit together.

They were shaped by the gold of experience, resilience, and all the lessons we both learned the hard way.

Like my beautiful bowl, we are not ruined by the fractures we’ve endured.

We are remade.

Stronger. Wiser. And more beautiful.

Scars Are Part of the Design
If you’re looking at your own “cracks” and struggling to see anything but damage, I want you to know this: there is another way to see yourself. Your flaws are not proof you’re broken beyond repair — they’re the very places where your strength and beauty shine through.

As a life coach, I help people shift perspective so they can embrace their scars, rewrite their story, and discover the gold in their own lives. If that’s something you need right now, I’d be honored to walk alongside you.