Tattoos, Starfish and Hope

I got my first tattoo almost 3 years ago. It’s a very small heart tattoo- a centimeter wide, completely shaded in. I elected to get a matching tattoo with my best friend. My best friend, and her family, spent the majority of high school, helping to raise me; and for this, I’m eternally grateful. Thus, I couldn’t think of another person to get my first tattoo with.

Even so, it’s not the first tattoo I wanted. Four years ago, I was accepted to be a City Year corps member. City Year is a non-profit organization, that focuses on attendance, behavior, and coursework in low-income areas. When I joined City Year I was 18, straight out of high school, and filled with conflicting ideas of idealism and disillusion. By the time I graduated, 10 months later with over 1700 hours of community service, I was motivated and convicted. It was through City Year, that I first heard of the starfish story.

The starfish story is adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren C. Eiseley. The parable is about a young girl throwing starfish back in the ocean after a storm. An older man approaches her, and admonishes her, “You can’t save them all”. The girl, momentarily defeated, brightens and responds “Well, I made a difference to that one!” During my corps year, we were encouraged to think of our students as starfish. The days are long, and the nights are never long enough; being a corps member required patience and hope. Our students or our starfish were supposed to be reminders that our efforts were making a difference.

At the end of my corps year, a few of my fellow corps members and I, decided to one day get starfish tattoos. For me, the tattoo represented my students, and the lessons that I learned that fateful year. My students taught me so much about life, circumstances, and myself, but more importantly they taught me about human resiliency.

I did my research and vetted local tattoo shops before making my decision. Tattoo #2 required exposing a rather large amount of skin to a complete stranger, but once I checked my modesty at the door- it was a relatively easy process. The actual tattoo hurt- the feeling of the needle drilling against my ribs is not one I’ll easily forget. But the finished product, is one that I adore.

I had originally decided to get two tattoos at the same time; hoping that he’d throw in the second one for the price of the first. My third tattoo represents a part of my past, my story and myself that I hesitate to address, but need a reminder of. Within the last year I’ve discovered Project Semicolon. Project Semicolon is a non-profit organization, that is committed to “presenting hope and love for those who are struggling with mental illness, suicide, addiction, and self-injury”.

Depression is something that I’ve struggled with since I was 12. It’s not something that I mention to friends, and it’s not something that I like to talk about. Still, I wanted a reminder that my life or my story doesn’t have to end every time that I feel depressed. That’s where the semi-colon came in. A semicolon represents a sentence that an author could have finished but chooses not to. The sentence represents life. I got a semicolon tattooed on my right wrist, as a reminder to myself that life goes on.

My tattoos are all metaphors. They represent pieces of my story and pieces of my life. I wouldn’t be who I am, without the messages that my heart, starfish and semicolon represent. So here’s to life; here’s to the ebb and the flow; here’s to human resiliency; here’s to another tomorrow.

“Those awful things are survivable because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be.”

John Green, Looking for Alaska

*The views expressed in this blog post are not affiliated with Americorps and its partners.

Peaceful November

I’ve entered November strangely at peace. I decided to lop my hair off, saying goodbye to six inches of dead ends, remorse, and regrets. While the amount isn’t a lot, it was still a scary decision. I hesitated the months before, having entertained cutting my hair since April! But after a 3 hour visit, my hesitation and my hair were gone!!

Marissa and I, out for drinks, after a haircut.

In addition to getting a successful haircut (#fistpump), I also decided to delete my Facebook. Deleting my social media is a choice that I’ve wrestled with for a few years. However, with my Instagram use quickly growing to an obsession, I determined that it was time to reign things in a bit. I started slowly- by consciously lowering how many times a day I checked the ‘gram. Slowly but surely, my addiction of checking it multiple times an hour, started to diminish. Currently, I check my Instagram once every 48 hours.

Fear of missing out or “FOMO” is a valid syndrome. It’s not one that I ever believed, until I had to tackle my disgusting Instagram obsession. I realized that the reason why I had to obsessively check social media, was that I was afraid of missing out on what everyone else around me was doing.

Slowing my Instagram usage came with the realization that instead of being a part of the lives of my peers, that I wanted to be an active part of my OWN life.  Nonetheless I was hesitant about deleting Facebook. I made sure to write down the birthdays of my close friends (am I the only one who relies on Facebook to tell me!?). It turns out that the biggest pitfall of having deleted my Facebook is losing access to my Spotify account. Having the two hooked up together, seemed like such a great idea, at the time. However, after losing access to my music, I’ve rethought the idea of having Facebook connected to everything.

I’ve learned a lot since deciding to delete my Facebook. Most importantly, I’ve learned that the most important person to check in on, is myself. We’re only a few days into November, but I’m at peace. A new haircut and a new outlook for a new month.

“Be strong and courageous . . . For the Lord, your God is with you wherever you go.”

-Joshua 1:9

Welcome November

It’s shocking to think that there are only 2 months left in 2015! I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in . . . While it’s slightly horrifying that the year has passed so quickly, I am excited for what 2016 will be bring. With 2 months left in November I’m sure that there are people running around attempting to accomplish the goals that they set forth for the year. I’m not eager to get anything done or feeling pressure from the impending new year due to the fact that I didn’t make any resolutions.

I see the need and the purpose of making resolutions for the New Year, and if that’s your style, then I support it. However, I can be extremely type A and make a weekly goal list and a daily task list. For me, making a list of goals for the New Year, while exciting, means a lot of self-deprecation. I tend to negatively focus on the goals that I’ve set forth and subconciously find ways to beat myself up for even needing to set those goals in the first place.

This year rather than lamenting on the ways that I want to lose weight or make better grades, I decided to focus on myself. I didn’t make a goal list, rather I wrote down all the things I had accomplished in 2014. I wanted to give myself the push and recognition that I deserved. Often I find myself seeking a sense of accomplishment from my peers and those around me. Focusing on my inner dreams and congratulating myself for a job well done has proved to be necessary and rather deserved.

I welcome November with open arms. I am excited for warm fires, expanding my collection of scarves, and self-love.

October aesthetic

“My philosophy is that not only are you responsible for your life, but doing the best at this moment puts you in the best place for the next moment.”

-Oprah Winfrey