Marked

Truth: I have never been a fan of tattoos.

I just haven't. The thought of sitting and having someone poke a needle with ink into my skin to make an everlasting impression of some design has never appealed to me. I have also never been a fan of tattoo on others. I will admit that over time I have learned to appreciate the tattoo as an art form. I have found myself a bit intrigued by the process of those who love tattoos and how they go about picking out a design. It is interesting on a human behavioral level to me to learn the background and back stories of tattoos that have been applied for specific meaning. I even have found that I enjoy the new onslaught of reality shows that chronicle people and their tattoos. It is fascinating mainly because it is far from my everyday world.

I do have a friend who has a few, more than one and less than ten, and while I will admit that I was not pleased that he has marked his body in this way and it was a shock to learn about it after many years of not seeing him, I can appreciate the meaning behind his tattoos. If you are going to mark yourself for eternity, it should at least mean something personal and because his do it helps me appreciate them as the memorials they are, rather than just some tacky ink on perfectly good skin.

Over the past month, really since my birthday, I have been contemplating the change I have undergone in my personal life. It has not been outwardly dramatic. In fact, some around me might not really even be able to detect a change at all. But it is there nonetheless. An attitude, a mark in the sand of what I will and will not accept in my life, from myself and from others. There are actions that I have taken, moments I have lived that I never want to forget, incidents that are so personal and life impacting that I cannot and do not even want to begin to share.

So, after thinking for a few weeks, I decided that I needed a marker on my person.

Now, don't get all hysterical, I don't have a tattoo. But I did stop while shopping in our mall and get a second ear piercing.

I realize to those with tattoos or multiple piercings of any kind, the idea of me getting a second ear piercing and attaching such a status to it might be laughable. But truly, I don't think I have ever understood the feeling of wanting to mark myself, in the way those others do, until today.

I had my ears first pierced when I was eighteen. I wanted pierced ears for the ease of wearing earrings, to be like everyone else, it was not anything but cosmetic and convenient. Up to this time in my life, I had not been allowed to have pierced ears, I either wore no earrings or clip-on ones. My parents were not fans of pierced ears, so once I was able to pay for it on my own and was of age, I ran to get pierced! There was no significance to it other than I had a wider variety of earrings to shop from in the stores.

But this time, this second piercing that took place this morning, has meaning, true meaning. From now until forever, I will have it as a mark on my being. Every time I see the stud earrings in the top pierced portions of my ears, I will be reminded. I will be reminded that I am a changed person, that I have a mark on my soul, as well as a mark on my body. It stands as an outward symbol of all I have learned, of how I have grown, that I have loved deep, and that I have reconnected with my true self in ways that will forever alter my view of the world.

I am not ashamed of my growth, I do not regret my many mistakes and stumbles on this growth path and I am happy when I look in the mirror and see the physical proof that life for me is forever changed.

Do you have a tattoo or piercing with a story? I would love to hear about it.

Living Happily In The Moment!
Bev