完形填空
Growing up, I had a scar on my face-a perfect arrow in the center of my cheek, pointing at my left eye.I 1 it when I was three, long before I knew that scars were a 2 thing, especially for a girl.I only knew that my scar brought me 3 and tenderness and candy.As I got older, I began to take 4 in my scar, in part to stop people laughing at me, but mainly as a reaction to the thought that I should feel uncomfortable.It's true.I was 5 the first couple of times someone pointed at my 6 and asked,“What's that?”or called me“Scarface.”But the more I heard how 7 my scar was, the more I found myself liking it.
When I turned fifteen, my parents- 8 the advice of a doctor--decided it was time to 9 on what was now a thick, shiny red scar.
“But I don't mind the scar, really,”I told my father as he 10 that I would have the operation during my summer vacation.And my friends, along with my boyfriend at the time, 11 as I did, that my scar was 12 and almost pretty in its own way.After so many years, it was a 13 of me.But my father said it was a deformity(畸形), I don't know what 14 me more that day:hearing my father call my scar a deformity, or 15 that it didn't 16 to him how I felt about it.
I did have the operation that summer.
In my late twenties, I took a long look at my scar, something I hadn't done in years. 17 , it could 18 mirror, I felt a sudden 19 .
There was something powerful about my scar and the proud person I 20 because of it.I have never been quite so strong since they cut it out.
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