Day 3: March 18, 2019

Monday, March 18, 2019

This post will be a response to the article, published by CNN, entitled "Tattoo therapy: How ink helps sexual assault survivors heal" by Nina Avramova. Read it here.




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On my body, you will find 5 tattoos, of varying sizes...

1. A dream catcher with a blue rose on my calf.
2. A teal bow on my upper back.
3. A dainty chipped tea cup on my right arm.
4. A framed image of Hogwarts castle on my right leg.
5. A series of succulents and stems on my upper left arm.

As I was laying face down on the black leather chair inside a Myrtle Beach tattoo parlor, Hank (the artist)
chuckled and told me that after the first one, you get addicted to getting tattoos. I smiled through the searing burns of needle on flesh and thought, yeah right...not after how this feels! Then I passed out.

My first tattoo, at age 18, was before I had ever experienced trauma. However, I had already begun my struggle with depression. It would hit me in waves, leaving me feeling hopeless and exhausted from menial tasks or socializing. I wanted to disappear. I spent a lot of my free time reading and drawing. More specifically, drawing dream catchers. I loved this idea of something physical being able to draw out, trap, and rid me of the nightmares and demons inside my head. Then I realized I could make this a part of me, as a tattoo.

There was the unexplainable feeling of beauty and self-love that came with my first tattoo (and each one after, really). I suddenly had this part of my body that I loved when the rest was ridiculed by others or, worse, myself. However, I hadn't actually connected all of these thoughts together quite yet.

Then at the age of 18, I found myself the victim of an abusive relationship and sexual assault/rape. I lost a lot of who I was. I was sinking into this pit of anxiety and self-hatred. I blamed myself. My body felt like a stranger. Something I was only renting part-time. When I'd have panic attacks, it felt like I was trying to claw my way out of my own skin. Eventually, though, it ended. I started getting better.

I planned my next tattoo - a teal bow to signify the strength of all the people who had been pained by sexual assault, abuse, and/or rape. It was my way of starting this process of taking back parts of myself while also saying "I will not be ashamed anymore."

With each tattoo since, I have felt more and more at home in my body. It feels like it truly belongs to me. It's a home, not an Airbnb. Sure, there are still parts I want to change. I have a long way to go on that front. But when I see the art along my skin, I can't help but smile at the places I have been in life and what I have accomplished.








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