Writing for me is like breathing.
Putting words to paper is cleansing and having the ability to make people see what you see, or feel what you feel with words alone is an incredible gift.
I got three new tattoos today. Like the others before them, they tell a story...my story. Every needle mark, every inch of freshly laid ink tells a story written across my creamy freckled skin.
The story of being awakened, a journey marred by twists and turns and the anticipation of more bumps to come. Beautiful things often have to be bent or broken in order to reveal the beauty from within. Journeys rarely begin as straight paths. I will remember everything. Right now, I want to forget, but someday I’ll move mountains to remember you. My left forearm will help remind me of the beauty you brought into my life, and of what I wanted to have with you...of what we had and what you gave me.
Misplaced and disorganized letters placed just so, now grace my right wrist. Letters that when overlapped and turned just right create art. Words have so much power and the letters used to make them are the foundation of communication. A foundation that must be strong in order to move on.
Last but not least, a Celtic symbol with three arms. A nod to my heritage, a gesture of faith and the belief that our past doesn’t have to define our present or derail our future.
Impulsive...absolutely. But our stories aren’t always chosen by us or thought through.
My body is my canvas and now it tells my whole truth. Something I can neither deny or want to hide.
But there is no going back, it’s too late for me. There is only acceptance, and the need to hold on while I move forward. I will hold on with everything I am.
