I know what you're thinking. Is that her ass? No! It is décolletage. I do not usually share photos of my bosom but I needed a visual aid for this little story...
When I divorced my first husband, I did not feel as free and easy as I'd imagined I would. I did not dance a jig. I did not live every day with gusto. I sank into a dark depression. I entertained thoughts of ending it all. I made very poor choices. This tattoo was the least of the bad choices but just as lasting.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love two out of three of my tattoos. And as you know, Meatloaf says two out of three ain't bad. I have one on each ankle and I like to catch a glimpse of one of them from time to time. It reminds me of my youth when I was tough and rowdy. But the one on my left breast...it reminds me of bad times.
I wanted a phoenix. I wanted a normal life again. I wanted to rise from the ashes. Trouble was, the guy didn't have a phoenix. And to compound the problem, neither of us were sober. What to do? It felt like the end of the world. I grabbed a sharpie and sketched a dove going down in flames. He said he liked it and I perked up. I sort of wanted to sleep with him. He said he would do the tattoo for $35. On a whim, I told him to add the word "Survivor" and that was that. He asked what I'd survived and I said, "my ex-husband." I never did sleep with the tattoo guy and I never have been pleased with the tattoo.
Many times since I did rise from my ashes, I've wondered what on earth I was thinking. People mistake it to say "Saviour" or if they do read it correctly, they ask if I'm a big Beyonce fan. Recently, Joe has started to tease me about these guys. If he sings Eye Of The Tiger to me one more time, I swear I will be forced to do something drastic!
I guess if you think about it just right, it has become a symbol of all I've endured and a whole lot of self-made trouble. A symbol, not only of a failed marriage but of all the poor decisions one can make along the way. And maybe even a symbol of how one can rise above anything.
Even a bad tattoo.
7 comments:
Nice tat. And I love Lucinda Williams. Especially that song Come On.
This is why I do not get tattoos. I know I'd end up hating all of them. But I like them on other people! And that tattoo is a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling (as Jimmy Buffet says) and yes, you have risen out of the ashes and that is worth being reminded of.
I'll have to tell K she inspired a blog. She'll be so honored. Actually, she'll say, "You guys are lame."
Ah, the joys of a teenage daughter.
Travis- Ahhh, I see the photo of my boobage was intriguing enough to garner a comment from you. Good, good....and thanks, Big Guy!
Ms. Moon- I love them on others, too! And I guess this one isn't SO bad.... But that time I got my tongue pierced? Yeah, worst decision ever! I never had any trouble with it and it didn't change my speech but folks sure do have hangups about body jewelry...Sheesh!
Mel- See how it works? You asked how I come up with material...well, this is how I do it. K's otherwise innocuous question started a fire in the belly of my bog and here it is now, belched up for all to see. Although, I think people have been put off by the boob shot. Oh well. Joe helped me take it. That's his thumb in the pic. That makes it okay in the "Blogging while maintaining amicable relationship with spouse" rule book.
Isn't that the neat thing about tattoos? There is always a story. You can compare them like bruises and cuts on your knee - like kids do. Maybe we should get tattoos on our knees? I don't have any tattoos, so I don't have a tattoo story to share. I have my ears peirced twice, but the second peirces are closed up. I have a chicken pox scar on my hip. I have a scar above my eyelid. It's a line, like a thick eyelash shape. I don't know what its from. My right ring finger doesn't work right sometimes, and that is a horrible story and I don't want to talk about it. This is a good post and I love it. And my left big toenail is extra narrow from surgery - it got messed up from pointe shoes.
I'm listening to a song saying, Are you alright? I needed it. That always happens on your blog. You send me a song that I need.
No tats here, but I always have liked them on others. My hubby has two and wants one more. We have been tossing around ideas. He and the kids got a book from the library called. "My Mommy has Tattoos" It was about a little boy who is afraid of his neighbor who has a bunch of tats. Only then does he discovers that his mom has a tat and they are nothing to be afraid of. It was funny.
I have been contemplating another tattoo. I love the one I have now, but it covers up an old one I disliked from day one.
Ah, the foolishness of drunken youth!
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