In traditional Japanese aesthetics, wabi-sabi is a centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection, sometimes described as appreciating beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete".

We live in a world were we face the pressure of being flawless, something we were never created to be. For years I judged myself through others' lenses, believing in society’s perceptions of beauty. As a result, I wore clothing I didn't really like, said nothing when I really needed to speak out and hid my legs the best way I could to avoid being questioned about my scars and bowed leg.

Let me explain where all these insecurities started. At the age of 18, I was involved in a motor-vehicle accident, I was on a motorbike at the time and got hit by a truck.

This accident was life altering. I shattered my pelvis and broke several bones in my body. My tibia had so many breaks they feared I might lose my leg. With this happening in South Africa in the early 90’s, the medical attention I needed was difficult to obtain. The surgeon eventually decided to order a metal pin from the UK and when it arrived he attempted to realign my shattered bones, inserting the pin down the centre of the bone, pulling all the shattered pieces together and hoping they would re-join.

I had many surgeries, ultimately learned to walk again, but my leg was different - scarred from the knee to the ankle, misshapen, bowed from the pin insertion and shorter by an inch. Something so often I overlooked as a blessing before my accident; my unscarred untouched legs, now seemed more like a passing dream, and I had woken up into a nightmare. I also had a permanently twisted pelvis and was advised that if I wanted children I may not be able to carry them to term. Unsure at that age if I would ever even grow to want children, I felt not only my options and dreams, but also my carefree and hopeful life being abruptly locked away, no longer within my reach. 

With this happening at 18, an age where I was just really beginning the start of my life and finding my place in the world, it was a lot to deal with. Looking back; and with all my learned knowledge of the importance of your mental well-being, I realise I probably should have had some form of counselling back then. However, I didn’t, and here I am today 30 years later, deciding to lift the veil I have been cowering behind, and finally trying to love and accept myself for the younger me, who’s confidence was stripped away all too soon.

Following all this, I had to try move forward, alone. I recall a time in my life when I used to pray for a new leg and no pain, begging and bargaining with God for a miracle. It never happened. Upset, confused, frustrated, depressed and full of doubts, I gave all my high heel shoes and short dresses away and chose to hide my changed body from the world.

I also mastered hiding and dealing with the chronic pain. For years I was unable to sit or stand for long periods of time, I couldn’t walk far and when I did I needed assistance, eventually relying on crutches and my family for support. Osteoarthritis was worsening in my hip, resulting in severe degeneration and deformity of the joint, making it steadily impossible to move without severe pain. In 2011 I had microfracture surgery on my left knee (after discovering I had no cartilage, possibly from the impact), but unfortunately that never worked and I still have persistent issues. Then in 2020, through Covid, I couldn’t take the pain in my hip any longer, and finally chose to have a full hip replacement.

Fast forward almost three decades and I am only now, slowly, starting to come to terms with all this trauma – it’s just taken me 30 years! I have started to realise I am in fact a miracle, a survivor, and that I’m quite proud of my many scars. Looking back on how far I've come, I can see that I’ve always had the strength I needed. I defied odds and even had my two beautiful children, despite what the doctors said back then. Being called names like ‘girl with the wooden leg’ have been hard, and it’s taken me a while to get here, but I am determined to no longer be ashamed and intimidated. At 48 years old, it’s perhaps high time I ignored comments like that and changed this negative relationship with my body. You’re excused while I try love and embrace the parts of me that have been unloved, rejected and denied for decades. I had to go through the most terrible experiences in order to be here, and I’m proud of who I am, scars and all. It’s made me stronger and I’m learning to recognize how beautiful my rare features actually are.

I don’t take anything for granted, simply being able to sit or stand without chronic pain is a blessing - one I appreciate every single day. I know there are worse issues in this world that others need to deal with and that I still, gratefully, have my leg - but this is my story none-the-less, one I have struggled to deal with for far too long. In a world full of unattainable perfection, I want to dare to be different and embrace imperfection, both in my journey as an artist and within myself. It takes courage, bravery and risk to go against the norm; to choose not to live in fear and refuse to be judged. It’s been a lonely journey, it’s been painful, it’s sucked, but it hasn’t defined me.

We all have things we don’t like about ourselves…but I no longer want to hide mine. I know it’s going to be challenging and scary at times, as I have hidden this part of me for longer than I care to remember, so I am challenging myself to embrace the parts of me I have struggled to accept……attempting to unwrap the intangible meaning of ‘Wabi Sabi’ within myself.

I chose to write this blog as a place to compile my feelings and bravely put this out there, a personal therapy session perhaps and a further step towards self-acceptance. I’m not looking for validation or approval and I guess ‘whoever reads this, reads this’.
I can only hope my story possibly helps anyone else suffering from pain / osteoarthritis / the fear of going through a hip replacement at a young age - or any age / body image and body acceptance / or any other personal issues they are struggling to live with. I know all too well the loneliness of this pain which simply cannot be understood except by those who have experienced it. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you want to and thank you for taking the time to read this.