About Me:

Aloha! I'm Wendy Kennar. I'm the mother of a seven-year-old son and a wife living in Los Angeles. I was a public school teacher for twelve years until a chronic medical condition made it necessary to leave my teaching career.

I've always been described as "quiet" - really, I'm just biting my tongue. I've got lots to say, and lots of thoughts to share, I just prefer to write them. That's the purpose of this blog. Each Wednesday, I post a personal essay offering my observations and thoughts.

A few fun facts about me: I've wanted to be a writer since second grade, when my teacher, Mrs. Jones, made me a "book" with a yellow construction paper cover. I have never learned to whistle, have always preferred sunflowers to roses, and have spent my life living within the same zip code.

Through the years, my writing has been published in the Los Angeles Times, Christian Science Monitor, United Teacher, GreenPrints, L.A. Parent, DivineCaroline.com, RoleReboot.org, XOJane, and Brain, Child Magazine. Additionally, my personal essays have been included in several anthologies, including: The Barefoot Review, Beyond the Diaper Bag, Lessons From My Parents, Write for Light, Being a Grown-Up: A User's Manual for the Real World, Ka-Pow!, How Writing Can Get You Through Tough Times, Breath and Shadow, The Grey Wolfe Storybook, and Sisters Born, Sisters Found.
I am a regular contributor at MomsLA.com, and you can also find me at Goodreads.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my blog. Feel free to comment and share my blog with others!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012


   They say everyone has scars.  Some scars are just more apparent than others.  My technical-scar isn’t all that noticeable, actually.  It’s on my left calf, up in the back, closer to my knee.  It’s the result of a muscle biopsy from last year.  The physical scar has healed rather nicely.

   But, I have other scars too.  I have prominent veins - red, blue, and purple on my legs.  They snake down and around, from my thighs to my feet.  They are evidence that there is something wrong with my legs.  They are a visible reminder that my legs are damaged.

   Other scars I hide.  I hide them behind my eyes, inside my ears, beneath my skin, and in my heart.  I can still see my red, swollen left calf, motionless on a hospital bed.  I can hear the scraping sound of my walker as I stumbled from the bed to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  I can feel the needles that were injected in my stomach when I was in the hospital. 

   I do my best to hide my scars.  I don’t wear skirts.  I try not to talk about my medical drama.  Many of my co-workers don’t even know that I’ve been struggling with a medical condition for almost two years now.  

   But, while reading Barbara Abercrombie’s Writing Out the Storm, I came across a passage written by Laura:  “I love my scar.  Scars are tangible proof that we have healed.”

   Last summer, I did wear skirts.  I celebrated the fact that I wasn’t in a hospital, and I wasn’t relying on a walker or a wheelchair as I had the summer before.  It occurs to me, now, that I was celebrating my scars.  My legs were scarred, but they were working.  I was still hopeful that the worst was behind me.  

   A year later, I’m not sure if I’ve already experienced the worst or not.  I’ve gotten frustrated, angry, and sad.  And I became pre-occupied with my scars.  I’m self-conscious about the way my legs look, and I lost focus on what’s really important - I’m walking.

   I have to remind myself that I’m dealing with a disease.  A disease that is unpredictable and chronic.  A disease that has left me scarred.  I can’t erase any of my scars; the ones you can see, and the ones I carry around with me.  They’re a part of me now, like my brown eyes, the beauty mark on the left side of my mouth, and the birthmark on my right forearm. 

   Now, I do know that it’s time for me to get out the skirts.


  1. Honey,
    I am so proud of your writing! It is amazing how you can articulate these difficult issues in your essays. You look great in your skirts and I am looking forward to our summer together!

  2. For sure you need to start wearing your skirts again.You are one AMAZING person and anyone knowing you is so lucky to be associated with you.No one is looking to see how many and how large or small your veins are,so please just start wearing your skirts that you look beautiful in.I am still praying each day for you that you will soon be pain free.I love you and I am so proud of you.

  3. I have never noticed the scars you refer to. What I see is a beautiful, accomplished young women who is a wonderful Mother, Wife, and teacher. I am proud to call you my daughter. Your Mother & I are proud of you and Ryan.

    Love, Dad