Gisele Goett
Bio
I write to spill my heart onto the page, where beauty, sadness, love, fear, and courage live. Love Lost, Love Found. A girl from Miami, learning how to maneuver through this life as gracefully as possible.
Stories (7)
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Pink Ribbon Scars
When one speaks about body art, the mind always goes straight to tattoos or piercings, crazy funky designs on the skin, maybe some crazy hair colored ideas. My parents are very old schooled, and although I am a lover of anything art related my skin is what one would say virgin skin. I have absolutely no tattoos and in this day in age that is pretty unheard of. I have always wanted tattoos and my mother has told me I am not allowed to get one if I am still living under her roof, which is very understandable, and surprisingly I have listened. Since my late teen years I have gone through struggles, heartbreaks, rebellion, misunderstandings, and well the typical growing up dramatic emotions one feels and never really knows how to deal with. I dealt with mine in pretty dark ways, and one of the outcomes that came with this was that I was a cutter. A hard truth no one really likes to talk about, but it is a part of me. As a result, I have visible scars up and down my entire left forearm. And they are very visible. Its been years since I’ve stopped, but there isn’t a day that doesn’t go by that I don’t look down at my arm and think about them. In the beginning, of course, I was very self conscious of my scars and I never wanted anyone to see them. But I live in Miami, where its summer all year round, therefore it’s extremely difficult to even try to hide them and people would talk either way if you are constantly wearing long sleeves in 90 degree weather. There came a point in my life where I had to make peace with the damage I had done, and from that day forward I wore my scars proudly. No one has ever asked me about them, but I constantly see people looking down at my arms from time to time. I do get the random curious cats who always think it’s something completely different that happened to me, but when I tell them the truth they don’t really know what to say, and I just respond back saying “don’t feel bad, I’ve crossed that bridge already, I’m fine now”. But no one ever dares to ask why, or how, but I don’t expect them to. In terms of body art, I have always wanted to get a tattoo big enough to hide them. But as I grow older the more and more respect I gain towards my pink ribbon scars. I see them now as a tattoo of their own, and it makes me feel strong and proud that I have overcome that darkness in my life. It was a hard time and I was constantly under a dark cloud, and it gives me joy to understand that I am strong enough to overcome anything I put my mind to. With that being said, not only do I see people’s tattoos and appreciate the art they have decided to put on their bodies, but I also acknowledge and take into account every scar they have on their body. Everyone has stories for their scars, funny stories, sad stories, dark stories or just plain accidental situations that happened out of clumsiness. But it gives people that real grittiness, you can see the human in them, you can see them for who they are. Scars speak louder than any ink you decide to put on your skin, because it’s your skin. Its your healing process, your wounds made you into the person you are today and we all have those stories to tell about our scars. Physically, or metaphorically, but either way they are beautiful. They are real. And when I listen to the stories told by others, it makes me more grounded, it inspires me, and I see the strength we hold, beyond what we choose to show to the world, but instead what we hide in the dark. If you just listen, you may find more comfort knowing someone else may have gone through the same obstacles you have gone through, and without judgement you will be able to see the light in their eyes, because us as humans hold so much hope, so much love, and we happen to wear it all right on our sleeves. Body art isn’t so much just what we choose to show to the world, but instead, what is already naturally on your skin makes you the unique person you were born into this world as.
By Gisele Goett5 years ago in Motivation
Broken Love
You know what’s dumb? I hurt you, because I didn’t know any better. Because I had just come out of a relationship built off lies and drugs. You wanted to save me, but you weren’t ready for what that actually entailed. You loved me because I was crazy and wild, but after a while you couldn’t handle it anymore and the same reason that made you intrigued by me, also made you lose your mind and despise me. And it was my fault. Everything was my fault. But you see the thing is, is that I threw a snowball, and you turned them into avalanches. That wind I blew, you turned it into a tornado. Those rocks that were a bit hot, you turned them into a fucking volcano, and with your anger it blew up and destroyed everything in sight.
By Gisele Goett5 years ago in Humans
