Sunday, 16 May 2010
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Personal Reflections: My First Tattoo
When my parents were growing up, they were both part of large, very conservative families on plots of land that have been passed down for generations. My dad grew up bailing hay, and my mom fed chickens. They were part of very traditional Christian families who believed in the proverb from the Bible, “spare the rod and spoil the child,” meaning a child who didn’t get spanked would become spoiled. They were both spanked as children and they believed it would be beneficial to my brother and me. It worked, I suppose, for a time. When I was a small child, I suppose it deterred me from some deviant behavior. However, as I got a little older, into my tween and teenage years, spankings got a little harsher and a little more violent. Instead of learning to be honest and respectful, I learned to hide things from my parents to avoid spankings. As a matter of fact, once I started high school, the only thing I ever got spankings for was being disrespectful to my mother. That was something I could not hide and my father could not tolerate. Things got ugly, to say the least.
Some say that spankings provide an immediate consequence to children who might not understand that their actions have delayed consequences. And for some, it becomes only a threat. For me, it taught me that when I do something wrong, there needs to be immediate painful punishment. When I was young, it was provided by my father. As I got older, I got better at lying and hiding things from my parents. Often, even if I did get in trouble, the consequences were just yelling and disappointment. Usually, that painful punishment had to come from somewhere else.
I first heard about cutting from a friend of mine my sophomore year of high school. She was a year ahead of me in school and I liked her a lot. We were both staying the night at a mutual friend’s house when she brought it up. She mentioned it in passing and said there was a book she had read that really helped her. I was intrigued, so I found the book and read it. I thought it was creepy at the time and it passed my mind.
Junior year of high school, I was involved in a lot of stuff I wasn’t altogether comfortable with. I was dating a boy I had no interest in who smoked and drank and ended up dropping out of school after that year. He was sweet but unnecessary. I also was hanging out with a bunch of people I didn’t really like or agree with, but since my best friend hung out with them, so did I. I was doing things I didn’t like that I knew my parents wouldn’t like, but since I didn’t really have any other options, and I personally wasn’t doing anything bad, I didn’t tell anyone. I still felt guilty.
I hated feeling that way and tried to push it down as much as I could. One day, right as spring break was starting, something in me snapped. To this day, I couldn’t tell you what it was, but all of a sudden, I didn’t feel anything. It was great at first. I didn’t feel guilty about my friends. It didn’t hurt when my dad yelled. It didn’t bother me when I felt like a third wheel around my best friend. Then, things got a little scary. I could not feel anything. I didn’t love my parents, or my friends, or anyone. I couldn’t feel happy or sad. I didn’t feel anything at all. It reminded me of when my foot would fall asleep. I would stand and try to walk on it but it didn’t feel like anything was there. If I stubbed my toe, I knew it should hurt, but I didn’t feel anything.
One night, my dad yelled at me about some very personal things and it really should have hurt, but it didn’t. About half an hour later, I was still trying to handle what had happened and he was asleep as though it didn’t affect him at all. I went into the bathroom I shared with my brother. I picked up his pocket knife out of a drawer and sliced my left forearm just in front of my elbow. It bled a little and as it did, I could feel every negative emotion in the world flow out of my arm and soak in a little bunch of tissue I had in my hand. As I threw it away, I felt my head clear and my heart lighten. All of a sudden, I was sleepy. I went to bed, never having felt better in all my life. That night started a terrible habit.
My battle with cutting raged on through my first year of college. There were times it was really bad and times it was all but gone. I met my best friend the summer before I started college and she helped me through so much. For half the first semester and through the entire second semester, I wore long pants and either a hoodie or wrist bands on my arms to hide the hundreds of marks that covered my arms and legs. When I finally did show my arms, I would keep them hidden against my body as much as possible, although with the help of my best friend, I was eventually able to be ok around my small group of friends at school.
When I decided to quit, it took many tries before I got it right and even then, it was about four months before things got any easier. When you’re addicted to something, it’s no big deal to do it and you almost don’t even think about it, but when you decide to quit, for a while, it consumes all your thoughts and everything you do. It is hard and painful. Eventually it became easier and over the last two years, I have been relatively ok thanks to the out pour of love I received both from my best friend and from God. The verses in the Bible that talk about us being healed and made right by the blood of Christ meant so much more to me. All along, I had been trying to heal myself with my own blood. Christ was tortured so I didn’t have to torture myself. God says blood is necessary for the forgiveness of sins, but it is His blood that was shed for me. I was overwhelmed, wash, soaked, marinated in love. It was that love, God’s love, showered on me from the bible and my wonderful best friend that gave me the courage and strength to stop hurting myself.
However, it always felt like there was a trick; like something out there was waiting for me to slip up. It felt like walking on ice. Eventually you get the hang of it, but there is still always the very real possibility that you will fall and fall hard.
On Tuesday, I got a tattoo that I have been wanting for a long time. It is the Greek word for unconditional or God’s love, “agape” on my left wrist. I first wanted the tattoo when I first started to quit. However, at the time I knew I would have to quit before I got it. Slicing up my wrist would ruin the tattoo. I was so nervous; I almost didn’t go through with it. Once the tattoo artist got started, I knew I had made the right choice. Most people choose not to get tattoos for two reasons: they hurt and they are permanent. For me, those were my two reasons to get one. The marks on my arms are all but permanent. When I was cutting, once my scars would start to fade, I had to make new ones to cover them. I wanted the scars. The scars reminded me that it really happened; that my pain was real. They reminded me of how hard I fought to stay alive.
The tattoo itself felt so familiar. The area it covers is an area that was highly abused by razor blades. Wrists are wrinkly by nature and highly vascular. These factors combined meant that if I made small, numerous cuts, they would bleed a lot for a time, and if I took care of them right away, the next day I could pass them off as dry, flaky skin. The tattoo felt like a thousand tiny cuts, only this time instead of spelling out pain, they spell out God’s love. His love has covered my pain. Now, when someone looks at my left arm, instead of seeing marks of madness, they will see God’s love. When I’m upset and considering screwing up everything I’ve worked for these last two years, I can see God’s love shining from my arm. In the place that was the source of most of my pain, sin, sadness, and shame, God’s love now burns brightly. I used to teeter on slick ice, craving pain and imagining the blood flow but my bloodlust has been satisfied. God’s love has covered it all.
What did your first tattoo mean? If you don't have a tattoo, do you have something that symbolizes a struggle that you've overcome?
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About the Author
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- From: agape_asha@xanga
- Name: agape_asha
- About Me: Every time I accomplish something on my "list of things to do before I die," the list gets longer.
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Comments (25)
My first tattoo was a question mark. It's angled and looks almost like a hook, and is surrounded by vines.
I got it after my father almost died after a surgery went awry.
Since then, the meaning has evolved. I am bound to my questions. They are cut into me, and my question mark is a beautiful reminder that it's always good to keep asking.
I've got one in mind.
This post is pretty much along the same lines for why I want one. I've never been addicted to physical pain, but pain is my motivation for the tattoo I have in mind.
In a nutshell, my dad died last year and he had a vision for our family--generations of our family. I never want to forget his vision. I want the tattoo.
~V
I don't have a tattoo. But I do want to thank you for sharing your story. Thank you for sharing your struggle and addiction. This takes courage!
My symbol for what I have overcome it an angel that a friend got me when I was terrified of going to a counselor for help. I look at that now when I am afraid of something and remember her love for me kept me from giving up. Her love and acceptance of me and all that was going on helped me get the help I needed.
I have tattoos on my wrist for the same reason. They say "Live Life"
My first tattoo was a cross with tribal designs that wrap around it and then the tribal designs turn into a bass clef and a treble clef on either side of the cross then in the center it's a NEDA symbol with the tip of it going toward a north star.
I want more tattoos, though. Maybe for my birthday , this summer.
I have none!
this is beautifully written. your choice of words has helped me understand the process of cutting through the individual's perspective.
as for my first real tattoo is on my right forearm, and reads: "everything will be ok." it was during a time when i was really struggling with a lot of issues, and right after praying, it just made sense.
My tattoo is very symbolic!
What - a star made of 3 lines, with small breaks to separate each line, for my dad, mom, and sister. It is in white ink instead of black.
Why - The star is me, and without each other we are all nothing. The star stands for my beliefs. In short, I do not find peace in a religion with other people. Church, prayer group, etc; people ruin it for me. This is based on my personal experiences. Instead, I feel closest to a higher power whenever I am in nature. The beauty of nature, especially the stars, astounds me; it always makes me feel like I am part of something brilliant. No people, just nature. It is in white ink so that people can't see it unless I show them, just like they don't need to know about my beliefs unless I tell them.
Where - my right foot, so I am always walking with my family wherever I may be. :]
good story, thanks for sharing.
"Christ was tortured so I didn’t have to torture myself." good line.
I'm glad your tattoo means so much to you and you're not hurting yourself anymore!
I just got a tattoo of an old school sparrow flying from my shoulder into my chest. It stands for "freedom through sobriety". I have been clean and sober for almost three years and for me, the bird stands for freedom. I feel like we are all birds in this world. We can be free, or we can be locked up in a cage.
My first tattoo is a scull and crossbones, that is really girly. I got it my second year of collage and had debated what to get. I am part of a sorority and one of our symbols is the scull and cross bones. When I entered collage I immediately rushed and immediately lost my first real boyfriend, I became depressed, and closed off, my sisters even though they barely knew me, knew something was wrong and stuck with me through out the mess, and trust me the brake up wasn't just "eh I don't love you any more" it was "I don't love you any more, thanks for introducing me to your friend who I have been cheating on you with" added to other things he had done to hurt me within the last month or so of us dating. So for my first tattoo I got something to remind me of what helped me through the first true heart break I had ever had.
My second tattoo is the word love on my forearm. Me and my older sister got similar ones at the same time. Like you I have faced harm to my body, unlike you mine wasn't something that people can still see (at least unless you knew me before and during my time of self loathing) I had an eating disorder, which was mostly because of hatred towards myself and my weight. Prayer, God, and great friends in high school helped me get better. Other friends of mine have also dealt with self harm due to self hatred or depression and a great philanthropy (maybe I don't know what to call it) is To Write Love On Her Arm (thus the love) which after me and my older sister discovered and researched it seemed fitting. My sister chose for hers to be right below her wrist, but mine is placed where is is because one night I watched unknowingly as one of my best friends scratched until she bled her arm. Right where I have my tattoo.
My third tattoo is of a butterfly. I have listened to ICP since I was in the 9th grade and made most of my friends because of the bond of music. Every ICP album is dedicated to "The Butterfly" which goes back to when one of the artists and his brother were young (between like 5 and 8) and they caught a butterfly one day and kept it over night, unknowing of what they were doing in the night the butterfly passed away. As children they were still pure, and this caused great grief on their hearts. That day they promised to make it to Heaven to one day apologize to the butterfly for accidentally killing it. To me my butterfly represents forgiveness for my sins from God, forgiveness to others for what they do or have done to me, and asking forgiveness to all that I have wronged, even if it takes until I am in Heaven.
My next tattoo will lay right under my neck on my back and will say Lynn in the same font used for my love. (all of my tattoos are or will be connected my butterfly and scull are about the same size in black and teal, my love will be filled in in teal and my Lynn will be black and teal and match the font of my Love) To most this is just my middle name, but my father's middle name was Luis which he hated so when he signed his name he would sign Mike L. Simpson. (I am Mikka L. Simpson) when my mom and dad were dating she tried her hardest to find out what the L stood for but he hated his middle name so he wouldn't tell. My mom one day finally guessed Lynn, which my father liked and said basically "I like that lets go with it." When I was 13 my father passed away. I have wanted a tattoo in remembrance of him but not anything like a cross and his death day or his name because that could get hard to explain to any man who enters my life. So going with our middle name made since.
*sorry this was so long. I have an addiction the the ink :p*
I got 3 stars behind my ear. My two best friends got the same thing...one for each of us.My next tattoo was one I came up with about 3 years ago. I like to call it my comprehensive tattoo, it has several elements that could have been individual tats, but I made them into one. It's a fleur-di-lis with words going around it. It reads: Est. 1986 Carpe Diem Veritas Amor Hope Famiglia. Seize the day, truth, love in French because I have french heritage, hope in English for the same reason, and family in Italian.
I so admire your courage for posting your story and I agree...agape is the perfect word for you. God may one day use you and your tattoo in a way you cannot even imagine!
I suppose the scars on my wrist symbolize what I've overcome.
I don't yet have a tattoo because I'm not of age in my state without parental consent.
My first tattoo will more than likely be my favorite animal, the Panda. Pandas are peaceful and lazy and they make me happy. So, I feel that any time I'm in a bad mood that my panda will be able to cheer me up in some way. Not to mention it's like my spirit animal... Though some say that the wolf is.
I absolutely love this post. I've never been a cutter, but my sister was. This is informative for people who don't understand motives behind such behavior. Thank you for sharing!
that was such an amazing memoir, im glad i decided to read it. the end where you compare the pain and scars on your arm to god's love, that was brilliant. well done! i'm glad you're better :)
I have a butterfly on my right ankle...
to me, it symbolizes change and freedom...
I am a military wife, and I have to get used to change all the time...
This is by far the best post I've read on xanga and I appreciate all of which you've shared. They seem actually genuine then most things I've read. Although I don't have a religion of my own, I found your story and insights really beautiful.
It is true how you said when you're addicted to something, you almost don't even think about it; it becomes a natural habit. I'm so glad you healed emotionally and physically because it sheds light on the real, real harrowing secrets cutters hold but that there's always hope.
I never know when the duration of my arm being bare from cuts ever really last but it's been around a year now for me and that's the longest so far. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the start of tattooing and if there's any correlation with that. I've always thought about a tattoo on my arm for the same reason you described yours but I still don't have that feeling of readiness. I'm always afraid I might slip again.
I have two tattoos thus far but the second one I got is the more intimate, personal account of a dark period in my life that's just beginning to progress in the light. They're footprints running from my knee down to my ankle/foot with my last name at the end. It's too long of an explanation behind it but I love it and it's a relief to have it.
Great post. Similar situation, stopped now, but I consider getting a tatoo when I'm older to symbolize: that human perserverance can beat fraility, even if it seems hopelessly dark at the moment.
my tattoo reflects my past abusive relationship that almost killed me. it's a dove with a quote by janis joplin around it "Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got" The saying can mean a lot, but to me its a reminder to never let myself get caught up in someone else's problems and to take care of myself.
I'm planning on getting a tattoo soon because of a lot of really difficult things I have gone through recently. I want to get it on my wrist because it's a saying that I want to be able to see whenever I am upset or crying. My wrist seemed reasonable. I'm probably getting it in white ink, though, because I only want it really noticeable to myself. It's really only for me to see.
I also have a tattoo planned out for my feet. It's all one tattoo but I'm separating it so that one half is on one foot and the other half is on the other foot. It's from two of my favorite songs from two bands whose music helped me get through a lot in my life. It's going to be on my feet because music helps me get by, and it made sense to have it on my feet because I use my feet to "walk through" life.
My first tattoo is going to symbolize my life before my attempt at suicide. I attempted suicide when I was a sophomore in high school in October 2007. I'm now graduating June 6th in a week or so. I start college in August or September.
What - I'm getting a black rose with a green stem. The leaves near the flower will be tipped with blood (to symbolize my cutting habit) and the flower will be wilting. There will be a ribbon around the stem of the flower that says October 9, 1991 (my birthday) to October 30, 2007 (my attempt date).
Why - I want to capture the moment that a part of me died that night. A part of me that is no longer a part of me and that will never be a part of me. I want to still be reminded what I used to be, but I know it's not a part of me anymore.
Where - On either my left forearm (over my scars from cutting) or on my left shoulder
This is very significant for me, but will be expensive because if it's on my forearm, it's going to be from elbow to wrist.
I have two tattoos, but they don't really have stories..
I'm too young to legally get one at the moment! But I know what I'm getting :).
I'm getting a Cross and a red rose, with the date that I misscarried underneath. To simbolize the day my life changed forever. To simbolize the day I gave my all to God, The day I picked up my Cross, denied myself and followed after him. :)
I don't have anything significant to say, except that this was a great post. I appreciate your honesty and your insight. God's kingdom is made up of simular people who have struggled for a long time to arrive at healing.
I got my first tattoo 9 hours ago. My nickname amongst my closest friends is Bee, so I got a bumble bee just under my bra on front right side, which is trailing from a swirly beeline that starts on my back.
I know it's silly and girly, but I didn't want anything serious.
Until last year, I had an eating disorder and depression for 18 months. A lot of my friends found out this year, after I recovered, as telling them helped me get better. My parents still don't know.
During that time my body image totally consumed me, and made me paranoid... I lost the boy I'd loved for 3 years and by the time I was fixed mentally I thought that everything was too late to repair.
I've got my boyfriend back now (which isn't the main reason) and I'm generally so much happier. I live away from my parents so I don't feel as powerless as I did under their roof, and I keep a completely normal and often indulgent vegetarian diet :)
I might not like this tattoo so much when I'm older, but I'm okay with that, If I one day choose to have it removed, or keep it covered, at least I'll know that there was a point in my life where I felt I could fly. Changes aren't regrets. And I'm so proud of my tattoo and how much I've grown in this last year :)