The image I am sharing today is one of those where, when I saw it on the screen of my mobile phone, it instantly captured my attention. One thought stuck in my mind: my history is written on my body.
My tattoo is the most prominent in this image, but that was not the first I saw. I saw the scar, and the stretch marks.
Those stretch marks tell a history of two pregnancies, one at far too young an age, and with a body that wasn’t ready to be stretched just that much. The second pregnancy was problematic, with forced rest, and left me gaining double the weight I did in the first. My body didn’t take kindly to that, hence the tiger stripes decorating many parts of my body today. They are very much part of my history.
But not all those lines were made my my two pregnancies. Fluctuation in my weight definitely played its part too. Too many diets where I lost weight, and then gain all and some more back again. Diets… something I will not do again.
Then there’s the scar, of which you see a white line on my right lower belly, but that starts on my right hip, runs down and ends on my left hip. It’s not a mark I love – there was a time I really resented it – but over time I have come to accept it as part of me; part of my history.
And then of course there’s my tattoo… my symbol of love, submission and commitment.
© Rebel’s Notes