Yesterday was a really incredible experience.
*TRIGGER WARNING: This post is very mild but does mention rape*
It's noon and I am curled up on the couch with a bottle of water, SVU on the TV, and my hands are shaking. I take deep breaths and try not to think about it. I fail miserably. Today is a big day for me. After 16 years of struggling, I am finally ready. I know I am ready because 4 years ago I thought I was ready for a survivor's mark. I know I am ready because 3 years ago I was still unsuccessful in remembering some of my most intimate moments. I know I am ready because 2 years ago I was still scared and angry. I know I am ready because last year I couldn't face my mother and tell her about my rape.
So I clean, I breathe deep, and I try not to think about it. I stand under the warm water of the shower and try not to think about it. We're in the car and I finally admit it out loud. This is a big day for me. My husband doesn't understand, and it hurts, but I need to remember not everyone will. It's just another tattoo to a lot of people. I forget that not everyone has been down my road or walked beside me through this journey. As the needle glides, all I can think about is the pain. This pain is for me. This ink is for me. This moment is for me and no one can take that away from me. I am finally turning it into my experience and finally claiming my body.
I watch the hummingbird come alive, slowly. The drawing did no justice to what I see before me. The shading puts the sun overhead, the purple and blue make it shine, and green in the banner makes it come to life. This bird is so free. This tattoo is so damn beautiful and I want to cry. After so many years of planning a big, elaborate piece, I leave the studio with one sweet bird and a banner. It's not about the theatrics. It's not about the story or the pain. It's about the simple beauty of healing. The simple fact that I figured out how to navigate it all and end up here. I feel so much more powerful with this little spirit animal. Every time I look down, I have no chance to wallow because I am faced with beauty. To the left is my sunflower for RJ. My reminder to love, to live, to keep the light shining. To the right is my hummingbird. My reminder to grow, to care, to believe in myself. With these two things to guide me, I don't think my feet will falter.
My husband asked me if I was ready for this tattoo. I didn't realize what he was asking me. He wanted to know if I was ready to talk about it. He wanted to make sure I could handle the discussion that it was going to lead to. Before I got it, many people asked what I was going to get and what it stood for. I was a little nervous to tell people who didn't know me very well about the story. It's kind of scary to be open about the fact that you were raped and abused. I was sure they would give me that look. The one with the tears in their eyes that says they are sorry. The one that says they don't trust me. The one that separates me from all of the normal people. I guess that is kind of what this is all about. People know I am a happy, healthy, normal woman. I want them to know that survivors can be happy, healthy, normal people.
Are other people ready to hear about this? Are my friends ready to be pulled into something as heavy as rape? I don't know, but I guess I am not really giving them a choice. I guess I am tired of people avoiding the situation. I guess I am tired of the laughter when I tell people that rape jokes are not allowed in my home. I guess I am tired of the idea that it could never happen to you because look, none of your friends ever dealt with it. 1 in 6 women and approximately 1 in 33 men have experienced sexual assault, molestation, and/or rape. We are not doing any favors by staying quiet any longer. Part of the reason I got my tattoo was to have the courage to break the silence. My little bird gives me a starting point to open up the discussion.
I hope that I am able to get a lot of people thinking and talking. I hope that my silence can be a thing of the past and my healing can start to include public speaking. I have been held back for too long and I believe I can do so much more good if I just open my mouth. I know I'm far from perfect and that my lifestyle isn't the preference of everyone, but I am very happy. My hope is that people see me as a wife first. My hope is that they see a strong, passionate, hard working woman in front of them. I hope they see a friend, a confidant, and a lover. Then, I hope they see the survivor at my core, and I hope it sparks something inside of them. I hope that other survivors might look to me and see that they can be capable of a healthy relationship. I hope that other survivors might look and see that they, too, can be successful in the workplace. But all I really want is for them to see that they are capable of so much more than they might think. I really want them to see that beyond having a normal life, they can go out and they can be truly magnificent. They can move mountains and lead nations if they just hang in there.
We are so much more than our pain, but I hope we find ways to grow from it. We are so much more than our fears, but I hope we learn from them. We are so much more than the brokenness, but I hope we fill the cracks with love and peace. We are so much more than our past, but I hope it hurtles us into the future.
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