Natural Scar Tissue Treatment: The Exciting New Science of Healing Fascia and Scars

🎙️ Episode 54 — Natural Scar Treatment: The Exciting New Science of Healing Fascia and Scar Tissue.

 Every scar tells a story. Some are more visible than others. I have a photo from the night before my 1st and emergent surgery when I was 24yo of my friend and I flashing our stomachs because of all hairbrained thoughts I had as I nervously prepared for the unknown outcome of stomach surgery the next day, I knew it was the last day my stomach wouldn’t have a big scar. I literally said “I need a photo so someday my husband will know my stomach He cares not one bit about that scar or the many more added to the collection of scars on my stomach. I often say it looks like I have been in a knife fight.

As I have matured, I know that every scar I have tells a piece of my story. They are now the proof that I am a miracle, not just for the fact that I survived a chronic and debilitating disease, severe sepsis, but the true miracle of my body’s ability to recover from such severe intrusions into my literal bowels. Deep cuts, mistaken nicks, terrible infections, a dysfunctional stomach. I don’t allow my scars to define me, but they do tell my story and are the visible evidence of my survival.

If you think about it, scars are not an actual injury. A scar is what remains after healing has occurred. A scar tells us our body saved us. Without the cells kicking into gear from the first slice of the skin to instantly begin its job of healing, we would die. We will get into that today.

I love this quote from one of my favorite ministers at my church in The Woodlands, Rob Renfroe. “Do not be ashamed of your scars. Your scars give you a story. Your scars make you who you are. Your scars give you wisdom and compassion and strength. Your scars make you beautiful.” All scars remind us that we survived.

There’s an old saying: “Scars are proof that what tried to destroy you didn’t succeed.” If we can hold firm to that belief calling out ANYTHING that tries to destroy us and use all of our attacks, set backs, battles and scars as empowerment that “I did it! I survived something that tried to destroy me”….then we have mastered an incredible life lesson. A spritual one at that.

I used to want to hide my scars. Now I see them as evidence of mercy, of repair, of my body’s relentless will to live. While others see the visible scars, I remember the tenacity, the answered prayers, the overwhelming feeling of the Holy Spirit filling my room, the love and care from friends and family. Yes, there were more difficult things as well, but I choose to remember the victory over the darkness. Both physically and spiritually. There is no doubt in my mind I could have died. I was told I might. But my tribe prayed relentlessly, I believed supernaturally and we all overcame together. Praise God.  But what most of us never learn is how much those scars still matter — not just what we see on the surface, but what’s happening underneath. As I always like to do is dive into the anatomy and physiology, so lets do this slowly.

(The Moment of Injury – about 4–9 min)

So let’s start at the beginning — the moment you get hurt is the moment of injury. Maybe it’s a kitchen accident. Maybe it’s a C-section. Maybe it’s a biopsy that saved your life.

Your body doesn’t panic. It acts. Platelets rush in first as the SOS, forming an initial clot — like sandbags being piled up around a river leak. Chemical messengers then call in the cleanup crew: your white blood cells. Their job is to remove the debris, and then the builders arrive — fibroblasts.

Think of fibroblasts as microscopic construction workers. They sense that tissue has been torn, and they start laying down collagen, the strong rope-like protein that holds you together. At first, they spin Type III collagen — fast, loose, temporary threads to close the wound. Over the next weeks as more healing occurs, those fibers are replaced by Type I collagen, which is stronger and more permanent.

Cleveland Clinic explains that this process is perfectly designed: the body seals danger first, then strengthens later. But fibroblasts don’t always know when to stop. If there’s too much inflammation or repeated tension, multiple surgeries in my case. They keep laying collagen in every direction — a quick, messy cross-hatch pattern. That patchwork becomes what we call scar tissue.

What Fascia Is

Here’s where most people stop the story — skin healed, done. But beneath that superficial scar is something far more alive: fascia.

Fascia is the body’s connective fabric — a web of collagen and water that wraps every muscle, nerve, and organ. If you peeled away the skin, you’d see this continuous white film that looks like silk. And trust me, with my abdomen intentionally held open for 2 months, I saw all of it up close. What we once thought was a nuisance causing tightness and adhesions between organs and skin, is actually communication. Researchers like Dr. Robert Schleip and Dr. Helene Langevin call fascia an “organ of sensory perception.” Scar tissue or FASCIA carries nerve endings, blood vessels, immune cells — a whole information highway.

When fibroblasts overbuild in one spot, they pull on this web. Layers that once slid smoothly begin to stick together. If you haven’t had a large scar before imagine your top layer of skin being attached to the muscle below it. It can’t glide freely like it once did with movement. That’s called an adhesion. And because fascia connects everything, one tight spot can tug on tissue inches—or feet—away. That’s why a C-section scar can lead to back pain, or why shoulder surgery can change how you breathe. Oh the pain I had to force myself to do “tummy time” to force my stomach to stretch out and “rip” in the nicest of terms that scar tissue to help me stand up straight. The scar tissue I battled made me bend forward causing lower back pain. Its a vicious cycle if you arent’ prepared for it. Few doctors address the scar tissue issue once you are “healed”. But if you recognize it, know you can actually improve that “Glide” between organs and tissues, you are already ahead of most people (and doctors) in the world.

The Purpose of Scar Tissue

Now, before we villainize scar tissue, let’s honor its purpose. It’s a rescue mission. It seals you, stabilizes you, keeps infection out. It’s the body’s way of saying, “We survived — let’s make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

But that same protection can overstay its welcome. If the tissue stays dehydrated or immobile, collagen fibers harden and shorten. Nerves inside become hypersensitive. That’s the pulling, tingling, or numbness many of us still feel years later.

It’s not just cosmetic. It’s communication. Your body is saying, “I’m still guarding this place.”

Old Science vs New Science

For decades, medicine taught that once scar tissue formed, that was it — permanent, lifeless, untouchable. We now know better.

Modern fascia research shows that fibroblasts are never done. They respond to pressure, movement, and even temperature changes. When fascia is gently stretched or warmed, those fibroblasts can reorganize collagen fibers into a more flexible pattern. That means scar tissue is changeable. This is mindblowing. I endured years of pain, not related to crohns disease, but to scar tissue and adhesions assuming there was nothing left to do outside of a lifetime and cringeworthy goal of doing a backbend to rip all the scar tissue in my stomach. In fact, that is what really began my dependence upon the use of opiates because of the pain of trying to tear the scar tissue with movement. Sounds awful, but it was all I knew to do then.

NIH-supported studies call this mechanotransduction — the body’s way of turning mechanical input into cellular change. Meaning when you move, stretch, or massage, you’re literally teaching those cells how to remodel themselves. Healing is not frozen in time. That truth alone changes everything. Even if your scar is 5 years old, 10 years old, or 20 years old, those fibroblasts are still listening. They just need the right cues.

Can the Body Heal on Its Own?

So can the body fix this by itself? Sometimes—partly. Fascia is always renewing, but not evenly. This is where I ask my staple question, what cavemen did in this instance. Well, they didn’t cut open their guts voluntarily and survive. Maybe that had deep wounds from trauma, but in the grand scheme of things, surgery is ultimately “unnatural” if you think about it. After surgery or trauma, the area of injury often loses blood flow and movement, so the self-correction process stalls. The body adapts around the restricted area instead of through it. While that might seem like a downer, yet what another miracle that our body knows how to work around a barricade of blocked information and adapt to a “new” line of communication. I smile because thats exactly what happens with my patients after they have had a stroke. The body takes those broken pathways after the brain bleeds, finds a way around them and creates new pathways. Thats how people heal from a stroke. Why not for any other injury with damaged fascia?

It’s never too late. Even old scars can regain flexibility and sensation when we give them the right kind of attention — hydration, warmth, and movement.

Early Scar Intervention

If your scar is newer, start simply with desensitization. Once the wound is closed, lightly touch or tap the area with clean hands or a soft cloth, a clean paintbrush or makeup brush, different textures gently over the incision. I know if you are in phase one the though of anything touching that scare makes you cringe. It will retrain the nerve endings over time and tell your brain, “We’re safe now.” Increase pressure slowly — maybe small circular motions, gentle skin lifts. If that feels too vulnerable, cover the area with fabric and rest your hand there. Safety first; pressure later.

Keep the skin tissue hydrated—inside and out. Drink water, use a mild oil like rosehip or calendula to keep the surface supple. Move the surrounding joints; movement is medicine for fascia because even if in a non-moveable area, the movement from a neighboring joint causes a gentle pull to the skin or tissue. And breathe. When you hold your breath, you hold tension. When you exhale, fascia softens.

Myofascial Release

 Let’s go a little deeper now—literally.

Once a scar has matured and those adhesions have formed, the next step is gentle myofascial release. Myo=muscle. Fascial=fascia. Releasing the grip of the muscle from the fascia That phrase can sound intimidating, but it simply means teaching the tissue to breathe again.

Our skin and Fascia have layers—imagine thin sheets of silk stacked on top of each other. Healthy fascia slides; stuck fascia grips. When you apply slow, steady pressure—not force—you’re sending a message to the fibroblasts inside: “Hey, it’s safe to let go.” If you can tolerate it make small and light circles just moving the top layer of skin. Think thru each individual layer of “silk” in this example. Start very superficial and light making sure the first layer can move independently from the layer beneath. Then increase the pressure and feel the next layer….keep this process going deeper and you will be able to feel where the adhesions are and how they respond to the light, but intentional massage thru each layer.

That pressure and warmth change how the cells organize collagen. Researchers at Harvard’s Osher Center found that sustained touch can increase local blood flow and reduce inflammatory markers in fascia. This isn’t just about “breaking up” scar tissue as I once thought. It’s about re-hydrating and re-educating it.

If you’ve ever felt tissue under your fingertips suddenly soften or even pulse—that’s fascia responding. It’s the body exhaling. Athletes often go to therapists to have this done after injuries or surgeries because they are most aware of their limitations. But you can do this too. Finding someone who will do myofascial release on your abdomen is a little trickier and as the patient, incredibly awkward feeling to have someone massaging your stomach. But once you start feeling the benefits, you will be a huge believer.

Breathing and the Nervous System

Let’s pause here for a breath—literally. Because the fascia doesn’t just respond to pressure; it responds to the state of your nervous system.

When you’re anxious or guarded, fascia tightens—like a child flinching. When you feel safe, it softens. So, breath work isn’t just fluff—it’s chemistry. Deep, slow exhalations lower cortisol and open blood vessels.

If deep belly breathing feels too much, start sideways: breathe into your ribs, your back, the space under your collarbones. You’re not forcing; you’re inviting. Each breath tells your scar, “You can stop protecting me now.”

If your scar is anywhere in your abdominal region its likely you are living on shallow breaths due to scar tissue or even learned behavior. I hate doing the breathing because it is tight for me and it does create a bit of anxiety by forcing deep breathing. I equate it to the anxiety you get from doing Kegel exercises. Can I get an amen? But both are worth it in the long run!

Natural Topicals

Now, let’s talk about what you can put on those scars. Mother Nature gave us a pharmacy in the garden.

Castor Oil

Our incredible miracle from episode xxxxx. Thick, sticky, but powerful. It contains ricinoleic acid, which increases lymph flow and draws circulation to sluggish tissue. When paired further with gentle heat, it penetrates deeply and helps fascia glide again.

If you’ve never tried a castor-oil pack, it’s as simple as it is ancient. You warm a flannel cloth with a little castor oil, place it over the scar or abdomen, cover with plastic wrap or a towel, and add gentle heat for 20–30 minutes.

The warmth dilates vessels, moves lymph, and tells the nervous system, “All is well.” Many moms notice improved digestion, less bloating, and softer scar lines after a few weeks.

Always patch-test first and keep the temperature comfortable—never hot.

Castor oil packs are lifeblood to scar tissue healing. I can attest to that.

Rosehip Seed Oil

A favorite for mature or sun-damaged scars. Rich in vitamins A and C—both key for collagen remodeling—and antioxidants that reduce discoloration. It’s light, absorbs quickly, and leaves the tissue silky.

Calendula Oil

Made from marigold blossoms. It calms inflammation, reduces itchiness, and speeds cellular turnover. Perfect for sensitive or post-surgical skin.

Vitamin E Oil

An antioxidant that softens and protects. A little goes a long way—mix it with another carrier oil to prevent irritation.

Magnesium Oil or Epsom Salt Baths (does this sound familiar?)

Magnesium relaxes muscle and fascia and encourages hydration at the cellular level. Many people notice less “tight band” sensation after a few consistent weeks. I use my favorite bath bombs that are clean and am amazed out good my abdomen feels after a hot bath in those.

DMSO — Risk and Reward

Now, let’s talk about a more advanced option: DMSO, short for dimethyl sulfoxide. It’s a natural compound derived from wood pulp—a by-product of tree bark processing. Scientists discovered it decades ago for its ability to carry other molecules through the skin.

Here’s what happens at the cellular level: DMSO slips into the phospholipid membrane of the cell, temporarily increasing permeability. That allows oxygen and nutrients in, and metabolic waste out. It also scavenges free radicals and calms inflammatory signals.In short—it improves the environment for healing.

But—and this is VERY important—DMSO carries everything that’s on your skin with it. That means perfumes, lotions, and synthetic chemicals can hitch a ride straight into the bloodstream. So purity and cleanliness are non-negotiable.

If you use it:

Only use pharmaceutical-grade 99.9 % pure DMSO.

Wash the area with fragrance-free soap and water first.

Use glass or stainless-steel tools—no plastic.

Dilute it: 1 part DMSO to 4–5 parts castor oil.

Patch-test and stop if you feel burning that lasts more than a few minutes.

Think of DMSO as a sacred key. It can open healing pathways—but you must decide what walks through the door.

Now, healing isn’t just topical. You can rebuild fascia and collagen from the inside out.

Collagen itself is made of amino acids—glycine, proline, and lysine—plus vitamin C, zinc, and copper as cofactors. Without vitamin C, fibroblasts can’t form proper collagen cross-links; that’s why sailors once developed scurvy—their wounds simply wouldn’t close.

Feed your fibroblasts:

Bone broth or collagen powder for amino acids.

Citrus, bell peppers, or rosehip tea for vitamin C.

Pumpkin seeds for zinc.

Hydration—fascia is nearly 70 % water.

And remember movement. Every step, every stretch, pumps fresh nutrients through this living web.

Let’s land here, friend.

Scars are not the end of the story; they’re the body’s version of resurrection. Where something once broke, the body knit itself back together.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

If He designed your body to stop the bleeding in seconds, to mobilize cells that repair and rebuild in days, and to remodel collagen for years—don’t you think He can renew what still feels stuck?

So, if you’re touching your scar right now, whisper gratitude. Then give it warmth, water, and patience. The body remembers—but it also forgives.

And that, my friend, is healing beneath the surface.

Emotional Connection

You: I want to pause for something tender here—because scars aren’t just physical.

Every mark has an echo. Maybe your scar came from a C-section, and it reminds you of both birth and fear. Maybe it’s from an illness, or a surgery you didn’t choose. Sometimes the pain isn’t in the skin—it’s in the story beneath it.

Fascia holds emotion. When researchers study this living web, they find nerve endings that communicate directly with the brain’s emotional centers. That’s why you might feel tears rise during a gentle stretch, or why touching an old wound can bring back a flood of memories. It’s not weakness—it’s release.

There is so much knowledge to gain on this topic. I am sure we will revisit this in the future.

Healing fascia means making peace with the past. The same way the Holy Spirit softens hardened hearts, He can soften hardened tissue. Both require patience, humility, and breath.

Let’s make this practical. If you’ve been avoiding your scar, start with this simple practice:

Find a quiet space. Place your hand gently over the scar—through clothing if that feels safer.

Breathe in for four counts, out for six. Whisper, “This place is safe now.”

Notice the temperature, the texture, the emotion. You don’t have to fix it today. You’re just re-introducing yourself to the part of you that once saved your life.

After a minute or two, apply warmth—your palm, a small heating pad, or a castor-oil pack—and let time do what time does best: soften.

Your goal isn’t perfection; it’s participation. You’re joining your body’s ongoing conversation of repair.

When Scripture says, “You are fearfully and wonderfully made,” that includes your scars. The same God who knit you together in your mother’s womb also knit you back together after the break. That knitting wasn’t sloppy—it was strategic. Scar tissue may start as protection, but it can end in redemption.

And isn’t that how God works? He takes what once hurt us and turns it into a testimony of resilience. He doesn’t erase the evidence—He transforms it. The scar becomes the sermon.

Science Meets Faith

Science tells us fibroblasts can remodel; faith tells us renewal is possible. Those two truths are not enemies—they’re allies. When you stretch, breathe, or apply heat, you’re giving biology permission to obey its divine blueprint.

Even researchers like Dr. Langevin note that fascia changes under slow, sustained pressure. It’s not force that heals—it’s consistency. And isn’t that what grace feels like? Not a shove, but a steady, patient re-alignment toward wholeness.

So if your scar feels stiff, numb, or ugly, remember this: It is still alive. It is still listening. It can still change.

Start today with one thing: maybe a few minutes of self-massage, maybe a castor-oil pack before bed, maybe just looking at your scar and saying, “Thank you for holding me together.”

Once you get that habit down, pick another.

Let’s end with this promise from Isaiah 61: “He will give you beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.”

Maybe that oil of joy is literal—rosehip, castor, calendula. Maybe it’s metaphorical—the grace that seeps into the hardened places of our hearts. Either way, it’s the same story: restoration through tenderness.

So take your time, friend. Touch what once hurt. And believe that under your fingertips, God is still creating new life beneath the surface.

Share Episode

Shownotes

Transcripts

Follow

Links

Video

More from YouTube