I never knew the tattoo I have on my wrist existed in real life.
I finally found my roots tangled on the edge of a college campus in the south.
Sometimes you dream up images years before they appear.
I got my tattoo when I was 16, I'm 27 now.
It only took 11 years for me to find the tree I have etched into my wrist.
I used my best friends ID to get that tattoo.
She was 2 years older.
While my other friend got a heart tattooed on her underparts, I chose a tree.
It's an odd tattoo for a teenager to want, but there was always a wiseness in my rebellion.
A sort of let's try this out, but let's make it meaningful as well.
I will be bad, but with intention.
The subconscious is a know it all even when we want to ignore, we know.
We always know.
I still rebel, mostly with intention, but with a respect for myself and the earth.
Rebellion has taken on a new meaning these days, a rebellion again perspectives I used to accept without question.
A retaliation against beliefs I once thought were ok.
A coming home to my true self, the uncovering of what was always there.
A girl, rooted in her body, expanded in her mind, looking up for the questions, at moments in time.
(Do you want to publish this piece on your website? E-mail me for inquiries)