BodyArt Nature's Way

I think, like a lot of people, I'm obsessed by tattoos. Having 5 currently and more to come, I can say every-time I go, I'm already thinking of the next one I want. The way a tattoo artist seems to flawlessly ink away on your skin and making it a part of you is something nothing less than pure magic. Each one having such a personal meaning of something in your life. Something that has changed you, affected you or represents you. All so unique to each individual. Such perfection! (Unless of course it's a tattoo nightmare but I think there is a show for that already. And a whole different writing challenge!Ha!)

Everyone of my tattoos have a back story to tell. All worthy of it's own story of a challenge or blessing in my life worth sharing, but that will have to be for another time. For now I want to talk about a different type of tattoo artist. One that's artistic flare comes so incredibly effortlessly, it really boggles the human mind. I'm referring to the the human body itself.

We've all had bruises, we all have scars, and those all have their stories to tell. Some are funny, maybe even embarrassing to carry. For instance, I have a nice scar on my left hand thumb. When I was 12 years old, I was playing with a carpet knife. Do I need to even finish this? I think playing with a carpet knife explains it all. Who plays with a carpet knife? A really silly 12 year old! Lesson learned but I carry this scar as a reminder. Luckily, it's not super noticeable. I don't have to worry about explaining to people about why my 12 year old self thought it would be a good idea to amuse herself with a knife.

Then there are some scars and bruises that come with heavy burdens. Hard lessons, even transformations. Nature's body art you could call them. The unequaled tattoo artist. Perfectly placed for a reason. To heal, to protect or perhaps there is more to it then that.

October 30th, 2017 I received much more than a silly scar from a carpet knife. I received some of mother natures most divine artwork. The timing was impeccable and, the lesson to be had was nonpareil. My transformation begins this night.

My life til this point had been filled with tragedy and trauma. I am a victim of childhood abuse. Every abuse you can imagine. From various people. My parents were alcoholics and each had suffered their own nightmarish childhoods. They were in no way prepared or equipped to raise children of their own. My sister and I paid the consequences of that. I turned to alcohol and drugs as most do in these situations. I pretended to fit the mold of what we deem as normal, but I was far from normal. I grew up to become a very flawed individual. I had children, a husband, divorced, second marriage, all while my addiction and past kept squeezing it's hold on me tighter and tighter. My behaviour at times was less than what a mother should behave or show her children. I spent most of my days hungover with huge regret. Never addressing the trauma that I had endured as a child. Thinking I was tougher then it, functioning enough to get through life, or so I thought.

This particular October day was going to be great day. I had the day off from work. Going to get a passport for my first ever trip out of the country with girlfriends in just a few short weeks. So planned a lunch with an old friend, and that night going to a hockey game with a friend. Plus the day before Halloween. My most favorite time of year!

Fast forward to the evening, couple of glasses of wine at lunch, few beers during hockey game. A few afterwards. Never stopping to think if I should drive or not. Very hard to think of now. My disease had gripped me. Luckily I was able to drop off my friend before anything happened.

Driving home and it happens, the moment that changed the trajectory of my life. A few deer jump in front of me. I swerve and my car goes flying over a ditch. I don't remember much, just waking up in a pool of blood, dangling upside down in my car, which is suspended upside down in a tree. Ambulance and police come and yes, I'm charged with a DUI. I'm in shock. Me, a criminal. A drunk driver! I have to face my husband, my sons, friends. The shame of it all is, quite frankly is impossible to describe. I had almost died that night, flipping the car 5 times. The story my son's would have had was their mother died a drunk in a drunk driving accident, that she caused. I also could have killed an innocent human. What have I become? On top of this I have numerous broken bones, bruises, and a profound concussion. Even to this day I have a lump on my face from that night. I become suicidal and quite depressed. But, I stop drinking. I vow to my husband I will never have another drink. I seek help and for the first time in my life I address the horrors of my childhood. I'm off work for 6 months. It takes months for the bones to heal and for the brusing in my face to go down. I have to go to a parole officer once a month. She becomes a rock for me. I cry to her every month on our visits. I'm going to meetings two times a week and seeing a counsellor once a week. And for the first time in 30 years I'm not hungover, I have energy, a transformation is taking place and I didn't even realize it.

It's been 3 years since that horrific night. A night originally I wished had never happened. Now I'm so grateful for it. It saved my life. I am ashamed it happened, but it was a divine interception. I was a ticking time bomb. Without this evening, I'm quite confident I'd be dead by now. Since this I have ran three half marathons, one marathon, completed two long cycle rides comprising of two days each. Taken up swimming and now training for an Ironman. I'm becoming a yoga instructor and the most important, I'm a good mom now.

I keep this picture as a the screensaver on my phone. As a reminder of many things. A reminder of the girl that died that October night. And of the women that emerged. Those brusies and scars keep me grounded now. Keep me pushing forward to become the best version of me. They remind me of the blessing of life I was granted that night. I honour these scars by remaining devoted to becoming the person I was meant to be. This is the kind of bodyart that cannot be bought in a tattoo parlour, only by hope.