I had always loved the idea of getting a tattoo for someone who had died. For me, I guess that would be my dad. He is an immediate family member that I lost. However, I have come to the realisation that this is not something that I thought it would be. A date or initials, you tend to remember them no matter what. I did not know him well enough to get something more meaningful. I have wanted one for a very long time. I just know that I am someone who walks around with a lot of thoughts and enjoys symbolism.
The past few weeks have escalated pretty quickly and suddenly it had been exactly one month since I started my blog. I realised through writing exactly what and who I am and how I think and feel. I am writing because I was inspired. Just because I am someone who has been through pain, it did not mean that I was not going to make something out of it. Something special and incredible. I am opening myself up. I have completely reclaimed my body and I am in control. So when I received the New York Times bestseller milk and honey, read it over and over, I realised exactly what I wanted.
I wanted the world to know that all the bitterness it had for me, would not keep me this bitter. I was not going to be consumed or pinned down. There is beauty here. There is goodness here. I know it now and it is something I never knew before. I say to myself when I feel down or get consumed or caught up, ‘do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness’. I am still that small, innocent, beautiful child. I have been through hell and back, but look at me: I survived. How incredible is that. I am still here. Still me and that child is still in me. She is scared, brave and powerful. I am so incredibly proud of her.
Bittersweetness. That is the only word I have to describe life. When I think of the world, I think bittersweet. There is so much beauty seeping out of all the cracks, in all the dark places. There is so much bad disguised as good. So much pain that comes out as poetry or sarcasm or even laughter. That is what the world is to me. A honey bee can sting you but at the end of the day its purpose is to make honey. All of us as humans are so capable of love, yet some of us choose to be so toxic. I have been stabbed in the back, screwed over and stung (metaphorically) so many times, but that will never stop me from making honey.
I will never forget the day I was leaving the house and in the post was a parcel for me. A book, in sparkly silver wrapping paper. I opened it. No letter. No note. Just the words forever and always in the cover. I opened it with no clue what I would be reading or getting into. I assumed feminism. It is so much more. It is a young girl, just like me. It is the story I needed to read, through poetry. I always loved poetry and her style with such meaning and clarity to it, inspired me to begin writing my own. This book is incredible. It truly breaks me and splits me open in the most healing of ways. I think sometimes it might be bad to fall apart so many times, but now I know: it is all a part of the healing.
So, I got a tattoo for me. For everything I have been through and will go through. It is my gentle reminder to continue making honey. I will get through the bitter moments and I will always ensure that I find the sweetness. My life and this journey is all that matters. Here is me, taking my body back. Healing, beautifully. Coming back together and finally feeling free. I am allowing myself to be me and no one else. It is the most beautiful of all the symbolism I have had in my life. It is every person who has ever supported me and got me to this point. Strangers, friends and family. It includes every person who ever hurt me, loved me and broke me. Most importantly, it symbolises the healing and the moving forward that I will do. It is me and is for me.