A Full Circle Moment
A new tattoo to release younger me.
As I was sitting on my couch tonight, the glow of white Christmas lights illuminating the second skin covering my new tattoo, I had a full circle moment. A moment of reflection, awe and gratitude. A moment so profound, tears came to my eyes.
This tattoo was so much more than a tattoo. The tattoo itself represents my kids and my love for them but the first purpose of the tattoo was to cover up self inflicted scars I had across my forearm. Almost twenty years ago I had a lapse in judgement, a moment of depression and pain so deep that I felt I needed a physical representation of my inner turmoil. I was in a dark place after hurting some of the most important people in my life on a weekend bender. Somewhere in my fucked up head, I felt I had to hurt myself the way I had hurt others. An atonement. An eye for an eye. A punishment.
Afterwards, my now husband came over and obviously he was distraught, angry and actually flabbergasted (a word I don’t use lightly). He doctored me up and wrote me a heartbreakingly beautiful letter pleading with me to find my worth and to see how worthy I was of love and goodness and Life.
The hangover and accompanying depression lifted the next day and I woke up absolutely horrified that I had mutilated myself. In a span of 48 hours I went from one mindset to another; that’s the power and effect of drugs and alcohol on the brain. I couldn’t believe that me, a relatively level-headed person, would do that and more, I couldn’t believe I allowed the weekend to play out as I did. I should’ve known better but at 20, how much do we really know (versus what we think we know versus actual reality)? I was clueless. I was playing a game of trying to be an adult when I was basically still a teenager who had the emotional intelligence of a child. I failed the game and I was mortified. To have that loss blatantly in my face like that was humiliating. I spent those first few weeks wearing fleece tennis warmers around my wrists and spent the next twenty years hiding my arm and dodging questions.
How could I explain what happened after all these years? And why would I when it was equally embarrassing but a truth I didn’t want to dredge up? Like an exboyfriend, its not something you want to admit even though there’s pictures of you together on Facebook from 2003. It’s over and done with but also …not. So I closed the door on it and found ways to keep my arm hidden right beside the Truth of what happened that day. And while I’ve moved on (it has been twenty years after all!), the reminder was still there like sagging skin after extreme weightless.
Nothing in life is free. There’s always a price for the extreme.
But yesterday, I had my scars on display for 6 hours, slowly but thoroughly erasing a piece of the past and truly letting go of the lingering shame and guilt that had surrounded that decision to harm myself that fateful day. Each pass of the needles over my arm felt like absolution, a removal of the excess skin, a release of an old Me that no longer exists but whose ghost lingered as if waiting for the gates of Heaven to open. For years, I had forced her into a purgatory of my own doing, a constant reminder of a dumb day that shouldn’t have happened but was on display, everyday reminding me of her, a her who should’ve been laid to rest a long time ago. Finally, she’s in Heaven, gone with the pain of change, growth and new beginnings.
As I stared at this gorgeous piece of art donning my arm tonight, I recalled that knife wielding day and brought past me to the surface for a final goodbye: “I love you, I forgive you. Stop being so damn hard on yourself. Of course you were going to try drugs. Of course you were going to party. Look at the pain you were always trying to mask! It could’ve been worse. But it’s going to be okay because one day you’re going to be married (of course to Clay!) and you’re going to have four kids (Yes, I know, we are crazy) and you’re going to be so ridiculously happy and so loved by future you that you won’t know the Life you’ll have. You’re gonna face some hard stuff before you get to the good stuff. Keep going, whatever may come. You’ve got this because you’re Kelsey and we’re awesome and we’re finally winning the game,” I tell her. The mama in me mothers her the way I needed to be mothered then. It’s never too late to show any versions of yourself some love.
My kids are getting older; my oldest recently asked about those scars. I deflected like the ol’ pro I am and said we’d talk about it when she was older. Maybe we will, maybe we won’t. It seems unnecessary now. That experience is finally and truly released, younger me is forgiven, that scar is healed, no longer masked and on display. Now I stare at a picture that reminds of my many, many blessings. What a life I’ve lived and what I life I will continue to live. Full circle moments: healing, enlightening, releasing. Growth. Love. Forgiveness. Appreciation. Gratitude. Heaven.