thistleseed

Like the expression “been there, done that” ...And now it’s over. My first marriage that is. However, it was a learning experience and some might even claim it was a internship to the highest level of commitment you can give someone. Now I know what I don’t want in a relationship while the first time around all I was looking at was what I wanted. There is a difference in mind-sets. I know that now. And it took the typical 7 years for me to figure all of that out—then the itch set in and we were finished.

Now, I’m in the healthiest relationship I’ve ever been that will ultimately lead to marriage. This time I’m not the 20 year old just shy of turning 21 that stood on the alter frozen and naive but nearer to 30 -fuller aware of who I am and much more careful and appreciative for the major things that don’t go wrong instead of what doesn’t always go my way.

Evidence of your existence … After years pass us by when you pick up an old journal even the most mundane information such as a check list of what you need to get done that day—can suddenly bring you back to a certain place, certain time …and you reconnect with who that person was …what was important to you and how much or how little you have grown from that day.

Imagine the strangers that could possibly stumble on your words when you are long gone … the smallest, most insignificant detail of your life to you may be an epiphany to them …or not.

Most importantly I have found diaries to be the most purifying instruments … no judgments …no red pen …no punishments, or misunderstandings—it’s your place to be selfish …it’s your place to shine or to rage or to drown in tear-ink-smeared puddles.

I view them as capsules. Impartial witnesses to my development and growth. Keep your life immortal. Keep a diary.

“I had a nightmare last night that you got a tattoo,” my mother said to me anxiously over ten years ago when I was still living at home with her.

Those words never ceased to haunt me even when years later at 26 years of age I sat in a parlor chair and had a large and beautiful Monarch butterfly in a heart of vines tattooed onto my upper-back. But not only was my mother on my mind. My father who was dying of terminal brain cancer at the time was one of my main focuses. I was in the beginnings of a divorce from my best friend who I had spent 7 years with. And then of course there was the simple fact that I wanted this artwork on me for eternity. I had waited so long to express myself.

I took to heart every bit of pain and worry I was feeling in my present life and due to my present life and converted it into strength so as the ink needle was bearing down on my flesh I could enjoy it instead of flinch.

“You act like a veteran of tattooing,” says the artist after nearly 2 hours of time was spent already with minimal breaks.

The end result was amazing. So beautiful. So meaningful. I remember the love I had for my dying father as it was being designed. I thought of how despite my mother’s dislike of tattoos I was doing something I wanted so very much just for me. I thought about how hot it would be in summer tops that have a low neck in the back …exposing such a sexy masterpiece. I loved how much of a classy-bad-ass I looked. So, many reasons and so many meanings, and so very much a milestone.

And it was well worth it. And my mother actually liked it. She said: “I always knew you’d eventually get one. At least it isn’t some gaudy rose and heart with a dagger and the letters MOM scribbled inside of it.”