I've severely self harmed for the past 12 years, the only thing that stopped me recently was being pregnant and now looking at my beautiful baby. I haven't cut myself for 12 months now. I can't try to explain to anybody why I do it, but it's a complusion that comes over me, that I HAVE to do it, like breathing. Very hard to explain.
Luckily my dh doesn't, and never has, judged me. I was open right from the beginning about my mental health issues, actually on our very first night together! He hadn't actually noticed my scars, probably too busy looking elsewhere
even though they are very noticeable. I used to try to cover them up as much as possible, and it's only in the last few years that I won't wear long sleeves in public when it's hot. I still cover them up for job interviews as I don't want to be judged by marks on my skin.
My old boss was incredibly tactless and very judgmental about them. She used to pointedly stare at them, and I just wished she'd say something instead of staring. Whenever there was an issue at work I'd be told it was because I'm "sensitive"; she had no idea why I'd self harmed (emotional, physical and sexual abuse by various family members, my fiance being killed), which had nothing to do with work.
In contrast as a breath of fresh air my new boss didn't pointedly stare at them, just said that if I was ever feeling low to let her know. She didn't ask about why I'd done it, just that if I ever needed her support to let her know. I came home absolutely beaming to DH about the conversation as it made me feel accepted and judged for who I am and not by my skin. I opened up to my new boss about coming off my meds because of being pregnant. My colleagues don't stare at them.
That's what I hate the most, the staring at them and not just asking me about them! But everybody's different. Having my scars doesn't make me any less capable of my job, I'd never hurt anybody else; in fact I take the hurt within myself. Having my scars doesn't make me any less of a contributing member of society. I'm not proud of them but they are a part of me. If it helps they are a physical sign of my struggle with bi polar, depression and the shit bits of my life.