Why I Got My Tattoo
In my former high-demand religion tattoos were greatly looked down upon. Now, if you got the tattoo before you became a member, great and welcome! If you got it as a member that was a big no-no. I was taught God wanted our bodies to be treated as temples and they are on loan to us. The defilement of our temples by getting a tattoo felt like blasphemy to me.
Some women at my church were my age and had gotten tattoos a few years prior. I found out and was delighted. When I complimented them on their tattoos and asked two of them how they’d told their children about it, both told me the way they’d told them was that they knew it was a mistake but they were doing it anyway. This puzzled me. What a strange response. It also told me a lot about how they felt about their tattoos. Inside of me, I knew the tattoo I wanted was not going to happen because it was a mistake.
Waiting For a Wave to Crash
I remember as I drove along the interstate past the dried cornfields and under the grey sky to my appointment I was terrified. Terrified of the guilt and remorse I would feel after signing the divorce papers. I had started the process unbeknownst to my husband 6 months earlier and then put it all on hold as I tried everything I could think of to help my marriage heal and encourage my husband to change. Marriage counseling, individual therapy, talks with our church Bishop, countless pleading prayers, countless tears. But, I realized he would not change and God absolutely did not want me and my children treated the way he abused us. It was time. The process was simple enough and my lawyer was wonderful and supportive as always. As I drove home my insides were hunched over trying to protect my heart from the tidal wave of sadness I knew was waiting just behind me if I looked. I held my breath getting ready for the plunge. Then, I looked up. A large flock of birds was flying overhead crossing the road and making their way into my heart. I felt their wings flutter and the water started to rush in. But it didn’t close my lungs and heart, it expanded them. I wasn’t drowning, I was finally breathing. I was shocked at how it felt so different from what I’d expected. What was this feeling? I had no idea or words and grasped this new thing that had been born. It felt like the feeling you get when you're moving from a small, old, and cramped house to a spacious and new one. Or the winged feeling you get as you prepare to go on a trip to a place you’ve never been but always wanted to go. I felt those wings take flight and then realized what this beautiful feeling was. Wide open endless possibility.
The road to healing has been very hard which makes sense after all the damage that was done and all the abuse and trauma that continue to happen while “co-parenting” with my children’s father. His abuse was entrenched in us so deeply and unfortunately continues. We’ve continually found new hidden pieces we didn’t know were there and bravely placed them in the light to try to heal from them.
Through it all I’ve had repeated experiences both around me and in me, due to talk therapy and EMDR, where I’ve seen flying birds and it’s reminded me I am not still caged. I can fly. I can dream. I can move forward. That life is still calling me and reminding me of my wings.
“What if we met hardship not with resilience but with imagination? Imagination is about curiosity, openness, and adaptability. It encourages us to perceive the darkest moments of struggle as neither fixed, nor inflexible, but subject to change. Imagination is about expansive potential. “ - from this article. ….. …… Make your quote into a Canva graphic either at the top or the bottom and used this quote
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
