Cultural Defiance

I have been thinking for a long time about tattoos and their meaning to me and to my life. I think of symbols and body modification and representing myself. I want a piece, I have wanted a piece since I began to get reacquainted with myself. I remember the overwhelming desire to stand for something; to have something stand to me as a reminder everyday of who I was and where I have come from. I remember this desire when I left Renfrew. I know this desire now. I do not believe I need to present an argument, after all this is my body. I respect others ideals on how my body should look, but if I listen to those ideals, how is that different than what I did to end up at Renfrew? How could something so beautiful take away from my beauty as an individual? I believe only in enhancement.

I find it greatly ironic the levels of cultural acceptance in body modification. I live in a city where it is not uncommon to change one's physical appearance; curves, silhouette, facial attributes. Not only is it uncommon it is revered. Yet, if I want to decorate my body because I am proud of my body and what is mine naturally, and I am looking to enhance my curves by lines of fluidity as opposed to saline pouches, I am being defiant. Well, then I praise my defiance, and those that know me will snicker in my defiant streak. I stand for things, but mainly I stand for myself.

I met with the artist that I am going to have the work done by last night. I walked away feeling not defiant at all. I felt as though this is the next logical path for me and my body. It is the only thing that made sense. I am exhilarated and I am scared, but I am ready.