“What’s on your wrist?” The old woman asks, pointing to the small black tattoo on the inside of my right wrist.
“Oh,” I say smiling, and turn my palm up so she can see it clearly, “it’s a tattoo that says ‘fighter’”.
For a moment she just stares at it, with nothing to say, but I know what she is thinking. It is the same thing everybody else thinks when they see it, whispering when they think I am out of earshot.
Who would let their fifteen-year-old daughter get a tattoo?
She’s going to regret it when she’s older.
She has no respect for herself.
But what can you expect from high society people? Tattoos to them are taboo and anyone with one should cover it up and never speak of it. But I don’t care what they say or what they think, because what is tattooed on my wrist goes further than they can ever understand, and I deserve to show it off.
“There must be quite a story behind that.” The woman says finally, tracing her finger over the thin black letters.
I believe it was Jack London who said, “Show me a man with a tattoo and I'll show you a man with an interesting past.” And that’s exactly what I have, an interesting past.
“There is.” I say, looking down on the tattoo. Memories of the past flood into my head and for a while I just look at it with her. In all honesty, I can’t really remember much of it; it just seems to be a blur of exhaustion and silent pain.
Silent pain, which is the worst kind of pain. The kind of pain where you look totally normal and happy, but you have something eating away inside of you. Cormac McCarthy said, “Scars have a strange power to remind us that our past is real.” But the thing about silent pain is, it doesn’t leave a scar. So I had to make my own.
I was lucky that my parents understood that this word was more than just a word. It was and continues to be my entire life story, wrapped up in seven little letters. Most parents come from the generation where tattoos are just for criminals and gang members. Tattoos are all about being “tough” or a “rebel”. But when my parents agreed, they knew it wasn’t because I want to be a rebel and they already knew I was tough, but in a good way.
It was Scott O’Connor who said, “They keep track of time. Sometimes things happen and you feel that you need to mark them down.” That’s what I had to do, mark this down.
“It’s going to hurt you know.” My mom said when she debated with me about getting it.
“I know.” I replied. A little bit of pain seemed like a small price to pay for a lifetime of a powerful message I needed to be a part of me.
“It’s beautiful.” The woman says, breaking my daze and bringing me back to reality.
“Thanks.” I say back, shocked that someone like her, wrapped in pearls and sipping tea from her China teacup, would think that a tattoo is beautiful. But it is, because it comes from a place of pain and pain is beauty.
I guess I should have known better than to judge a person by how they look on the outside. After all, isn’t that what everyone has always done to me? They see me as a wealthy kid who has everything, never seeing the silent pain that I have to get through everyday.
Eugene O’Neil said, “There is no present or future – only the past, happening over and over again now.” And if that’s true, then I’m going to have to be fighter for a while. This tattoo reminds me of who I am, of what I survived, and what I may have to survive in the future.
“Oh,” I say smiling, and turn my palm up so she can see it clearly, “it’s a tattoo that says ‘fighter’”.
For a moment she just stares at it, with nothing to say, but I know what she is thinking. It is the same thing everybody else thinks when they see it, whispering when they think I am out of earshot.
Who would let their fifteen-year-old daughter get a tattoo?
She’s going to regret it when she’s older.
She has no respect for herself.
But what can you expect from high society people? Tattoos to them are taboo and anyone with one should cover it up and never speak of it. But I don’t care what they say or what they think, because what is tattooed on my wrist goes further than they can ever understand, and I deserve to show it off.
“There must be quite a story behind that.” The woman says finally, tracing her finger over the thin black letters.
I believe it was Jack London who said, “Show me a man with a tattoo and I'll show you a man with an interesting past.” And that’s exactly what I have, an interesting past.
“There is.” I say, looking down on the tattoo. Memories of the past flood into my head and for a while I just look at it with her. In all honesty, I can’t really remember much of it; it just seems to be a blur of exhaustion and silent pain.
Silent pain, which is the worst kind of pain. The kind of pain where you look totally normal and happy, but you have something eating away inside of you. Cormac McCarthy said, “Scars have a strange power to remind us that our past is real.” But the thing about silent pain is, it doesn’t leave a scar. So I had to make my own.
I was lucky that my parents understood that this word was more than just a word. It was and continues to be my entire life story, wrapped up in seven little letters. Most parents come from the generation where tattoos are just for criminals and gang members. Tattoos are all about being “tough” or a “rebel”. But when my parents agreed, they knew it wasn’t because I want to be a rebel and they already knew I was tough, but in a good way.
It was Scott O’Connor who said, “They keep track of time. Sometimes things happen and you feel that you need to mark them down.” That’s what I had to do, mark this down.
“It’s going to hurt you know.” My mom said when she debated with me about getting it.
“I know.” I replied. A little bit of pain seemed like a small price to pay for a lifetime of a powerful message I needed to be a part of me.
“It’s beautiful.” The woman says, breaking my daze and bringing me back to reality.
“Thanks.” I say back, shocked that someone like her, wrapped in pearls and sipping tea from her China teacup, would think that a tattoo is beautiful. But it is, because it comes from a place of pain and pain is beauty.
I guess I should have known better than to judge a person by how they look on the outside. After all, isn’t that what everyone has always done to me? They see me as a wealthy kid who has everything, never seeing the silent pain that I have to get through everyday.
Eugene O’Neil said, “There is no present or future – only the past, happening over and over again now.” And if that’s true, then I’m going to have to be fighter for a while. This tattoo reminds me of who I am, of what I survived, and what I may have to survive in the future.
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