when I was very young, I was married for far too long to an abusive asshole. About a year before I found the courage to leave him, I began piercing myself (by a professional!). At one time, I had 9 piercings. It was my way of reclaiming myself , of reminding myself that I was more than he tried to allow. After I met the man I would eventually marry, I slowly let the piercing go since I no longer needed that reminder.
Fast-forward a few years and I find that I am still in an abusive relationship. This one, though, is worse than the first because the abuser is ME and I can’t very well divorce myself. Honestly, the verbal abuse I heap on myself can be stunning and if anyone calls me on it, I just say that I’m saying what I know others are thinking.
I have cottage cheese thighs
I have man-calves
I have flabby arms
And so on and so forth. So “not good”.
This shit has to stop so I decided to put a permanent reminder of my strength on one of my least favorite areas, my big ol’ thigh.
Yesterday, I hit the gym in the morning for some speed work. One of my running friends, who is known for sneaking pictures, got this one of me during my warm up. I knew she was back there and I knew I would hate how it looked. Queue mental barrage.
Then I looked down and saw my tattoo sticking out of my shorts and thought “screw this, let’s get it done!” So I did.
I still have a long way to go but I am closer than I was!