When I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, I started writing a story called Nameless. In it, the main character had a tattoo on her wrist of an infinity symbol. I wrote that because, at the time, I wanted so badly to get an infinity symbol on my wrist. The story is still a work in progress–the editing process is a long one–and up until yesterday the tattoo had always been a someday. Six years I’ve been dreaming of this tattoo, six years I’ve talked about getting this tattoo, and still something held me back. Fear. I’ve never been scared of the future, and not liking it. No, it was just fear of living, of change. And so for six years I talked about my tattoo instead of getting it.
It’s kind of serendipitous how everything happened. The appointment was already made, but after everything happened it really was what I needed. I’ve always said the infinity symbol, to me, would be about personal strength. And in the end, that’s exactly what it was. It still is. I look down at it, and I know regardless of what happens next, I’m still me and I have to be the best me I can be. And this tattoo is just the beginning of the best me I can be. Six years I dreamed about this tattoo, too scared about actually getting it. And now… it just feels right. I finally feel like I can become the girl I scared of being because I have to be. If one thing this whole stupid thing has taught me is that I have to love myself, wholly and completely. There are the people around me who still love me, but if I can’t appreciate who I am, how can anyone else?
And thankfully, I have amazing best friends who will bare blizzards to go to tattoo appointments with me, and hold my hand and tell me how rockstar beautiful I am.
And you know what, I finally feel rockstar beautiful. Ripped jeans and a beauty queen smile.