For centuries, people have had to deal with stretch marks. They’re a natural part of life and no person should ever feel ashamed because of them. That said, I’m not sure how I, a commoner who has yet to taste the noble glory of exalted war, feel about comparisons between stretch marks and battle scars. That is stolen valor, and as a young squire who has not yet proven myself in battle, I will never become her majesty’s knight if you accuse me thusly!
Is this some devilish trick to tarnish my good name? What-ho, villain! If that be your devices, I shall duel you for my honor! Take up your sword and prepare to meet Lucifer, you scoundrel! What’s that, your intentions are pure? You mean only to inspire goodwill toward the lines along which my skin has stretched? Perchance I misunderstand…but I need no such inspiration. I am at peace with my earthly form. Are you not with yours? Oh, you have not any stretch marks? Your fervor makes sense to me now. Well, let me explain: The reddish lines across my stomach and thighs are of no consequence to me. I am preoccupied with more important matters, like carrying the shield of my lord into battle and trying not to die of leprosy.
I have also heard mine stretch marks compared to the striped fur of a beastly Tyger. Pray tell me, what does a Tyger look like? Is a Tyger ten feet tall with a hardened beak and tail of fish? Seriously. I am from The Dark Ages, so I have no context for your comparison. Wait, is this too supposed to inspire kindly feelings of love towards my stretch marks? Hark, again, I appreciate your encouragements. But I am most truly fine with the body I have. I praise the heavens for my health and all the feats of strength I can accomplish. I have only ever felt self-conscious about my stretch marks in moments like these when I am told I am brave for having them. Speak of my bravery when I have slain a mighty dragon. And as you might say with your modern tongue: Chill about the whole stretch marks thing.
Perhaps one day, I will grace the field of battle on the back of a majestic steed, or spar with dastardly Gaul and fiendish Visigoth, taking bodily blows to defend the crown. On that day, you may say I have battle scars and rejoice. Until then, let us not bestow feigned glory upon my body and just accept my stretch’d marks for what they are.
