just a “basic” tattoo

I know, I know... this looks like a “basic white girl” tattoo, right? Right. I was 21 when I got this tattoo and it was only the second mark of permanent ink my body had known. I’m not sure if every basic tattoo is fueled by someone believing that it has important meaning or not, but meaning is what what my basic tattoo was fueled by. Experience, pain, depression, & a new perspective gave my second tattoo breath.

I’ll save the sob story and give you a quick run-down; I grew up with my mother in a sheltered and abusive home. I attempted running away multiple times over the years, but until I was 17 was I able to get out for good. Once I finally got that new start, I found a set back. I was pregnant.

Before being blessed with the gift of life, I had a rocky journey. Stereotypically, I won’t get into details, there were issues with my son’s father and his family, as well as problems with my mental health. These factors all took a toll on me, and after attempting suicide, was when I learned about the beautiful life inside my own. Fast forward, I gave birth to the brightest light in 2015. Lived a normal life with his father as a new couple, worked full-time, cooked, played Mommy, etc. Until the middle of 2017 rolled around, we went our separate ways and that’s when the battle began. It became a constant fight, daily, over our son. It felt as if I was battling the devil over my son’s soul. That was just the beginning.

Between 2017 and the current 2020, this man put me through hell. Cheated and married the same female he was with before we were together, after telling me how horrible she was, tried to take me away from my son and vise versa, had his side of the family spend money and use their small town connections to bribe the people around us, used his family member working for an attorney to draw up a restraining order to try and execute a protective order, lied to our judge and attorneys as well as CPS workers, in an attempt to keep my son away from me for longer, he would also tell me that my son didn’t deserve me because I had to work or I didn’t have as much money as he did and I couldn’t fight as hard legally, while trying to make me pay HIM child support, as well as encouraging me to sign my rights away. Y’all, that is the type of treatment C R A P P Y should individuals receive... not good mothers or fathers who only want the best for their children. I know reading these details can’t make you understand from my perspective and there are details that are left out for privacy purposes and the protection of characters, but to give you an idea of what hell feels like when you survived it as a child and suddenly went right back. When the child you grow becomes the saving grace and gives you a reason to live out of survival mode, fighting against a narcissist and abuser is torture. Above all else, struggling so hard to hold on so tightly to your child to make sure he doesn’t have to endure the same treatment you did— how so many children have endured and STILL endure.

So, basically, this tattoo was something I treated myself to. For the $60 I had saved up specifically for myself, a friend and I spontaneously decided to get tattoos together. It was more of a “cheers” to surviving what seemed to be the worst and a reminder to always remember that feeling the pain is normal. It’s means I’m alive. And to feel the pain, means that the strength we will feel is going to be extraordinary. It’s almost like a sticky note up on the mirror with positive encouragement, except it’s a law written in permanent ink on my temple that I see every day. Let me just say that the struggle is still there, but I can feel the strength coming my way with each passing moment.

***I want to S/O to all the hard-working parents, single or together, who bust their A** daily to provide food, shelter, structure, love, & attention to their amazing children. WITH PAIN COMES STRENGTH! #savethechildren #saveyourself ***