I wear my heart on my sleeve… back, neck, tummy, wrist, thigh, ankle, bum and pelvis ❤
…I’m referring to my tattoo’s 🙂 I love’em, I love’em, I love’em! Really I do!
Each one tells a story, some happy, some sad, some deep, some not so deep… But each VERY important to me and my journey …So if at any point you feel the need to express a negative opinion about them …DO NOT! Because with every word, you would actually be insulting my story…
That’s right, my Story!
It gets deeper…
Up until a few months ago, I would never have admitted that sometimes I feel depressed. Who ME!?! Depressed? No way! I just feel a little down, a nap will sort it and I’ll be back on track tomorrow
…I also would never, ever (ever!) link any of my beautiful drawings to self harm …ever!
…I’m not 100% sure …Its crazy!
I feel like a flower blossoming when I sit in the tattoo chair, like each drawing adds beauty to my being
…The sting of the needle as it crosses my skin and tells the stories that are in my head, feels good to me… I love it …I feel strong!
Sitting in the chair not moving… No fidgeting, no sound bar the buzz of the needle… No breaks …I sit until the masterpiece is complete and after enduring the pain, I look at the pretty markings and I feel good.
It’s a release…
Are the two connected? I genuinely don’t know…
I obviously cannot speak for every single tattooed human being in the entire universe and I’m not trying to… I can only speak for myself
What if for me, they are connected in some way? …Could you imagine? …Would you still flippantly express your dislike of my tattoos? Would you still casually pick apart my “scars” ?
…It only crossed my mind days ago, during a counselling session, that the connection could even be a possibility…
I don’t think it’s why I do it… I LOVE my little doodles
But would it still feel good to you with your bare skin, to shower me with criticisms, whilst I desperately try to explain and justify the potential mini cries for help permanently etched on to my skin?…
The stylised peacock feather on my ankle = For my Dad (RIP) …It started as a small flower, but evolved overtime into the big piece it is today, much more fitting for the man he once was
The coloured butterflies on my forearm = 2 out of 3 miscarriages, my little rainbow babies the only coloured tattoos I have
The Roman numerals on my back = My daughters birthday …her Dad has the same …Can you believe that we once had a baby making, matching tattoos type of love? LOL! How things change!!!
My roses and honey suckle = The flowers of my birth month and a representation of me blossoming as I learn to love myself more
The two butterflies that fly among the flowers mentioned above = My daughter and I, beautiful, happy and free
The flower on my bum = Ironically, covers a scar caused by the injections I get to prevent my severe hayfever! Hayfever is a BISH and the scar was upsetting
My Ankh = Sits above the space that my right fallopian tube should be, but isn’t anymore. The Ankh represents Life …Life that I will create in the future, despite the missing tube… Speak it in to existence …And in my case draw it too 🙂
My Lotus’ (I have 3) = My growth… the lotus grows up through murky, swampy water to blossom in to something absolutely beautiful… Like me …I hope!
There are more pretty pictures etched lovingly on to my skin; an Om, the Zen circle, “Success” written in arabic on my neck, because failure is not an option! … And more. Each is a piece of me.
Some people write diaries, some people paint pictures …some write poetry, some even choreograph dances to express their feelings …I express my feelings on my skin …and although it may not be for you…
…IT’S NOT FOR YOU! …IT’S FOR ME!
Each is a stepping stone to feeling better, they make me happy
Is that a bad thing?
..My tattoo’s (my story) make me feel (more) Beautiful, they are part of who I am …I am a living work of art …& the last time I checked not one of them makes me a bad person …Soooo if you don’t approve, that’s ok! Just don’t poo, poo my Life Story with your personal opinions on the matter …You do not have to like my tattoos, not even a little bit …Just keep that view to yourself, thank you, please!
I’ve made a pinky promise to myself, to be unapologetically ME! 🙂
Love yourself first… The rest will follow