My Tattoo is My Badge of Survival
It took a longer time than for most, but when I was around 40 years old I put a tattoo of a fairy on the left side of my arse. Most people I know who have tattoos have put
them on their bodies to remind them of something or it becomes a ritual for
having achieved something; even if it is just falling madly in love. Of course, the more inconsequential the
reason for putting a tattoo on one’s body, the more likely one is to regret
having it there which will send you scurrying back to the tattoo parlour to get
them to fill in, fill out, change and colour the tattoo so that it no longer
reminds you about the thing you never wanted to forget in the first place.
Like most, I also
had a reason for that tattoo of a fairy that I put onto my arse. When I was 15 years old, I was walking
through the kitchen in my bikini when my father called me to stand in front of
him. He had a permanent marker in his
hand. He had a lot of male friends
visiting him who were also standing around the kitchen.
“Turn around’, he
said.
I did and I felt
him pull my bikini bottom down and draw something on the left bum cheek.
“What did you write
Dad?, I asked him.
“Go and look”, he
said, above the laughter from the men.
Off I went the
bedroom I shared with my sister. I turned around and pulled my bikini up so I
could see what he had written or drawn on my bum. There was just one word written in permanent
black ink.
WHORE
I had to figure it
out because it was now a reflection in the mirror and the letters were back to
front. I had no idea what it meant and
looked it up in the dictionary. I was
mortified. I scrubbed and scrubbed my arse but even when
it was red from all the scrubbing, the outline of “whore” still showed through.
I never forgot that
incident and vowed that never again would anyone put such a horrid word or idea
onto my body. And then…the opportunity
arose. I had the tattoo put in the same
place as the indelible ink word had been put.
I closed that chapter of mortification by changing what was on my
arse. I have never regretted that
tattoo.
BUT, the funny side
to this story is that it no longer resembles a fairy and it no longer is quite
as high up on my arse cheek as it was before.
As I have got older, so gravity has done its work. The fairy is sliding down towards the back of
my leg and now looks exactly like a dragon. I now see that dragon as a triumph over
adversity – it is a badge of survival.
0 comments:
Post a Comment