Don’t Just Respect Crowns, Respect Scars Too 

Cheers to the new month. With the weight of everything we’ve gone through this year, including the victories that have crowned us and the scars that have moulded us, November arrives.

Every new month offers us an opportunity to take stock of our progress and consider how far we’ve come.

Too often, we honour crowns (accomplishments, titles, and recognition) while ignoring the scars that allowed those moments to happen. Nevertheless, our scars speak for themselves: of tenacity, of silent struggles, of strength forged in pain.

Our society glorifies the finishers, those who reach the pinnacle, wear the crown, and appear to have everything worked out. However, have you ever stopped to consider the people who set out on the journey, gave it their all, and failed to reach the end?

They are also carrying something strong. Maybe not a crown. But a scar.

Furthermore, scars can prove their worth without the spotlight, unlike crowns.

Everyone Loves the Crown

The crown stands for victory whether it be a promotion at work, a successful business, a dream home, or recognition. 

It lets the world know that “I made it,” and it’s shining and admirable.

The scars behind that crown, however, are frequently invisible to us. These include the many times the person wanted to give up, the failures for which no one applauded, and the nights of doubt.

Every crown has a backstory of hardship, but we hardly ever stop to consider what it took to get there.

The reality? Crowns announce arrival but the journey is told via scars. 

The Ones Who Dropped Off

Let’s discuss those who did not “make it”, those who entered the same race but did not complete it.

• The woman who used her savings to start a business but had to close it down after a year.

• The individual who began a degree but was unable to finish it due to life events.

• The single parents who had to put their aspirations on hold in order to raise their children.

• The friend who started a YouTube channel full of hope but lost momentum halfway.

Do we ever pause to consider what they discovered along the way?

Because the truth is that those who did not “complete” have wisdom in their scars.

Sometimes, the person who fell along the way learned things that the person who crossed the finish line won’t know for years.

The Depth of the Scar

A scar is evidence of past pain that has since healed.

It is a badge of survival rather than a sign of weakness.

Compared to someone who succeeded on their first try;

• Someone who has previously failed in business may now have a greater understanding of risk, timing, and self-awareness.

• Someone who left a toxic relationship has learned what peace feels like; a lesson that no crown can teach.

• Someone who dropped out of school to provide for their family may have a unique perspective on empathy and sacrifice that a degree cannot capture.

These are the quiet achievers; their perseverance, compassion, and genuineness are what defines them rather than accolades.

Real-Life Reflections

Consider a few historical figures who were labeled failures.

• Walt Disney lost his job at a newspaper because he was “not imaginative enough.”

• Oprah Winfrey was told she wasn’t fit for television.

• Before KFC became a well-known worldwide brand, Colonel Sanders had to deal with more than a thousand rejections.

Before they donned their crowns, each of them were scarred by rejection, loss, and disappointment. Their scars served as teaching grounds for fortitude, endurance, and discernment.

Beyond success stories, there are innumerable others whose names we will never know; these are people who did not “make it big”, but instead moulded lives, raised families, helped others, and overcome their own struggles to gain strength. Their stories are also important.

The Issue with a Crown-Only Culture

Society tends to measure worth by results. We ask:

• “Did it succeed?”

• “Did they win?”

• “How far did they go?”

But something is missing from such questions.

• What if finishing faithfully was more important than finishing first?

• What if someone else needed to hear the lessons you learned about falling, pausing, or pivoting?

We perpetuate the myth that only success that can be seen is worthwhile when we only honour crowns.

However, when we also respect scars, we begin to value people for who they became rather than just what they accomplished.

The Silent Strength of Those Who Fell

Most people who have stumbled are humble. They are aware of how fragile progress can be.

They have empathy because they know how difficult the “climb” is.

The fact that they have survived “fire” gives them strength.

How about you?

You may have scars too. Emotional, mental, or spiritual scars.

Don’t conceal them. Don’t rush to cover them with crowns, because there is someone waiting to hear of your survival story.

• Crowns represent glory. Scars represent growth.

• Crowns are praised. Scars create a connection.

• The visible winners wear crowns. Those silent fighters bear scars.

Therefore, remember to appreciate the effort while you celebrate victory.

Yes, honour crowns, but honour scars as well. Because those who survived but didn’t finish the journey teach us some of the most valuable lessons in life.

 It’s Your Turn:

Which scar gave you a profound lesson? Your story could be the healing someone else needs, so share your thoughts or views in the comments section below.

About the Author

IfyCodes

Administrator

Ifeyinwa Evans-Okosodo is a Project Lead Developer, Fellow Professional Mentor & Coach, and a Certified Transformation & Productivity Coach. She shares insights that blend tech, mindset, and growth helping readers build systems that work and lives that thrive.

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