LIE TO ME (I CAN'T HAVE SOME OF THAT)

Rad artwork from Voodoo Doughnuts in Orlando

I recently read 'Girl, Wash Your Face' by Rachel Hollis.  

(I recommend this book highly BTW).

Each chapter of that book is a lie she told herself.  

Her courage at sharing some of those struggles 

inspired me to consider lies that I've told myself.     

I've told myself some of the same lies that she has...

but I've got a list of others that is as long as my life. 

And those are just the ones that I'm currently staring down

 or have already conquered!

I am positive there are more of these suckers sitting underneath rocks.

Exterminating them is the work of a life time.

So, inspired by Rachel, I've decided that the next series of posts

 will be focused on lies that I've told myself.

Today I'm going to start with a strange one.

Here's the first lie:

I am not allowed to have visible tattoos.

This lie is so ridiculous...mainly because I have already 
had 3 tattoos (1 is a cover-up), 

all of which could be visible at any given time 
depending on what I choose to wear.

What I really mean by this is that I'm not allowed to have tattoos
 on my arms, chest, or lower legs.

Places where my skin is might be on display while 
wearing my usual work attire or attending formal events.
This lie originated somewhere, but it was so long ago that I can't trace it back.

My relationship with tattoos has been a slow evolution and 
is a surprisingly good barometer of my relationship with myself.
Here's a quick-ish timeline.

Tattoo #1

I got my first tattoo as a college sophomore. 

It was a small flower on the top of my right thigh-number 957 off the wall.

My boyfriend paid for it at his favorite tattoo artist.

I chose that placement because I thought 
it would weather the storm path of my already-planned-out life best.

It could be hidden from sun and probably wouldn't stretch too 
badly when I was pregnant.  

Also...I figured that wouldn't hurt as bad as some other areas.  

 I'm sure it hurt but I really don't remember it.  

It was so tiny-about the size of a quarter but I felt like such a rebel.  

I had a tattoo!

I was a badass!

Well, except for the fact that I didn't really like it, 
hadn't paid for it, and 
I wasn't that compatible with the guy who did.
From that experience I learned not to let other people pay for my tattoos

and not to pick a numbered design off the wall on a whim.

Tattoo #2

Blurry representation of the artwork used for my second tattoo

My next tattoo came almost twenty years later.
This time I swung the other way on the control freak spectrum (surprise!). 

This tattoo has meaning and I paid for it myself. 

Two acorns that represent my children-
tiny seeds that have such potential, 

denizens of a place that highly values the acorn (City of the Oaks),
 and a tree that has meant everlasting life for thousands of years.  

I made the design and insisted on the artist transferring it to my ankle.  

I am more satisfied with this tattoo than my first but...

I am still missing some of the self-expression a tattoo can give you.

From this experience I learned that tattoos definitely hurt

but not more than say...childbirth.

And that I really, really like them.

Tattoo #3

Tattoo number 3 combines zinnias and bees and is perfect for me (but private too).

Around the time I got my second tattoo, 
I made a friend with one of the most gorgeous tattoos I'd ever seen.

It is personal and meaningful to her-it tells a story about her life
but the artist had some license with the subject.

I hadn't really seen anyone else use a tattoo in quite that way before.

My friend connected me with her artist (who is now my go-to person).

Christy at Blue Flame Tattoo is the real deal.

She doesn't let you see the work or approve it before she does it.

However...she really captures what you're asking for in her own style.

She's an expert midwife at bringing ideas through to the world of tats.

Tattoo number 3 came into the world in three hours of pain.

It hurt like a bitch but it's still the shortest labor I've ever had.

I love it so much-enough that I remember to wear sunscreen.

Tattoo number 3 covered up tattoo number 1 and 
overwrote that mistake with a more fully complete story.
This is where (I thought) I learned to trust the process.

Listen when the urge calls and then go get an expert that you trust.

Tattoo #4

About a year ago, I started to get the itch again.  

I knew the subject I wanted so I called Christy and scheduled a consult.

She's booked way far out in advance so there is no 
'show up and get a tat' concept with her.  

As I got closer to the consult day...
I started wrestling with the placement.  

I was holding onto this idea that it needed 
to be merged into my upper thigh tattoo-
that I needed to keep it all contained and hidden.

However, the form that it will take doesn't quite work on my 
upper thigh with my other tattoo-there's no obvious way to blend it in.  

Also, the subject is something that I want visible-the meaning is public.

Christy's mat

My heart kept telling me...put it on your arm.

Which led to a violent and immediate NO inside my brain.

The kind of no you get when you ask a parent about something
that seems like nothing....but in my case usually turns into a closet
 full of stuff no one wants to talk about so please shut up and eat your dinner.

That was interesting.....why was the NO so violent?

The lie that I was telling myself was lurking but

the story was so ingrained in my sub-conscious 
that I couldn't even hear it.

And that basic lie meant that I colluded with myself
 to create more lies that support the initial lie.

I would say: 

In my industry, I shouldn't have a visible tattoo....

some clients are very vocal and uncomfortable by them.

When at least 10 of my coworkers have tattoos, 
many of them visible on a daily basis.
We have never lost business because of a tattoo.

I would say:

I'm just not sure about having it visible, what if I don't like it?

When I know that I have an excellent artist 
who's work I love and who listens to her clients.
I am safe with her, so what is the problem?

I would say:

I'll just get tired of it and want it off of my arm.

Then why am I getting a tattoo at all?  

They don't come off easily-
regardless of placement.

These were things I would say to myself but 
the arguments against those lies would not get
factored into the equation.
I wasn't able to see the cognitive dissonance.
Still...something kept nagging at me.

I recently attended a Christian conference that was co-led 

by a woman pastor who's arms are covered in tattoos. 

As she lead us in worship, I never once thought...
oh man, I wish she would cover those up.

I thought they were glorious and brave.
I realized that I've always felt about visible tattoos-
that the person who has them has somehow claimed themselves
and is flaunting it out in the open for all of us to see.
Shamelessly.

It was the last little bit of data that let me see 
how I was lying to myself.

All of these shenanigans and self-deceptions were so 
I wouldn't have to admit the underlying and universal lies 
that keep us all stuck sometimes:

I don't think I deserve to be fully myself.

Here are the ugly truths that go along with that lie:

Some of what I like aesthetically means there are groups
 where I won't belong.

I'm afraid of judgement or rejection so I will avoid 
making a decision or choosing myself.

I value belonging over authenticity.

Isn't this artwork rad?  From voodoo doughnuts in Orlando.

I had the consult yesterday.  

My new tattoo is going on my inner, upper arm in August. 

I gave Christy very little direction. 

Do your thing I said.  

I'm going to love it.  

One more step towards claiming my whole self.

One more piece of the journey.

One less lie I need to keep holding onto so that I won't have to become.

#lietome