I can relate, not exactly in the same way, but in the way that I cherish my first scars. To me they show that what happened in the past is real. It's not something I've just, I don't know, made up? No one really knows about my past, but it's as if my scars are a way into it.
It's hard to explain it, but what you're saying does make sense, and you're not alone.
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