I already have a few sure, (one removed; but we’ll get to that later) but I don’t have the tattoo that I should, nor does any woman. And let me explain why I said ‘wear’.
Most people, men included, get tattoos that mean something to them, now sure there’s that small percentage that did the “Oh yeah, I did that in my drunk college years” or the ever famous “Yeah got that one to piss off the ‘rents”. Well, they are all fine and dandy, but they are also (semi) permanent (in my book) hence the five hundred dollars I handed over to the plastic surgeon to have my ex-husbands name removed from my ring finger, damn that Pamela Anderson.
So you see I’m not talking about the typical Betty Boop holding her cocktail tray with a scotch on the rocks tattoo, nor am I referring to the ever popular “tat”amongst bikers and mechanics; you know the one, that big red heart with MOM scripted through it.
I am referring to more personal artwork, for instance one of mine, ‘Proverbs 3:5-6’. Ah yes, like my blog site, Journal entry ‘356’. Or the cross on the back of my neck with my two daughters initials in it.
Men reading this you can leave now, or keep reading to educate yourselves a wee bit further on us. Today I had a thought of one tattoo, just one, that every woman should wear. And for its and her own reasons as well.
Close your mind’s eye as you read the words, and allow yourself to ‘see’ Her.
She has long straight brown hair, no bangs, just parted the middle all the way down about to mid back. She has large round eyes that steal your focus, a petite nose and thin lips; but when she smiles its nothing but oh so lovely, Her cheeks are high though her face is some what rounded but with a tight chin, and they turn the most beautiful color pink when she blushes.
She is a bit over medium height with long arms and long thin legs. She wears a patch work quilt dress, not a suit of armour. It is tattered from place to place, but adorns her well. It has a high neckline and short sleeves, it falls just below her knees. She is a bit clumsy, walks on her toes from time to time, but only when she smiles. At other times, she moves slower with hunched shoulders and faces the ground with a broken heart.
She falls but she always gets back up and she isn’t afraid to show it. She has cuts with stitches, lacerations with sutures and scars from the healing. But shes okay with that, no, she’s not great with it, I said she’s okay with it. But that is what makes her real.
We are all real; it’s society that doesn’t allow us to really be real. But why I ask? Why?!?! We have all been through Hell, we have all struggled with being the best Mom, the best daughter, the best sister, friend, co-worker, employee, neighbor. Oh I’m sorry, I guess I overlooked your Facebook perfect life!
Well no more, I am going back to old ever popular ‘I am woman hear me roar’ and stating “I am woman WATCH me be real”!
Here’s to you, Me and all of the other Sally’s out there!