My mom's cousin called just before dinner and said she was on her way over... I was making dinner, so I threw in a little more pasta, added a salad and voila! Dinner for 3 becomes dinner for 4.

It was great seeing her again after not seeing her for who knows how many years... at least 10 maybe more! The conversation was fun and family history oriented. Trudy's was the first family wedding I ever attended, so I remember it the best of any of them. To me it was magical a-way back then.

Conversation eventually turned to the topic of tattoos. What is with that topic popping up all the time, now? The disapproval was clear and rampant in my mother's words and tone. She leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that she does not approve of tattoos. Though Trudy has one, she has it in a very hidden spot, and it has special meaning to her, because it was like one her "Poppy" had. He had a monkey on his back. ;-) She does, too. It's Curious George and very cute.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting there and my mother is ranting and raving about how she things "slut" the instant she sees a tattoo on a woman and that's what anyone things and blah blah blah... Trudy agrees, by the way, that tattoos make people think bad things about the person who has it... and while I notice tattoos (and have a huge one that my mother is unaware of... ;-) ) I do not automatically assume bad things about the person who has them. For me, the person's actions tells me much more about who they are than them merely having a tattoo.

During the course of this conversation, with me grimmacing and rolling my eyes at every opportunity and my mother warning me "don't you go out and get one , now just because I said these things" - as if I would alter my body permanently just to SPITE her?! - I felt strong and true to myself and had no desire to ruin my mother's opinion of me by divulging the secret of the tattoo. I'll keep my joy to myself and sucks to be a mom whos daughter can't tell her everything and share certain joys with her...

However... just now i was trying to get to sleep, and I couldn't. I was worrying about how I would meet a guy, he'd see the tattoo and BAM! he'd run like a scared rabbit or worse, turn his nose up at me disdainfully and I'd be alone - oh so alone... I was actually, seriously falling into a pit of despair over this. I tried talking myself out of it. I tried reminding myself that getting this tattoo was my gift to myself, that I love it, that it is really a wonderful part of me... but the DOUBT and FEAR were kicking my emotional butt. WHAT THE HELL!?!

*** warning - gratuitous self-love and respect below ***

What made me feel joy and strength and power once more was One. Simple. Thought. I don't *NEED* *ANYBODY*. If no one comes along in life who will love me and adore me and share life with me simply because I have a gorgeous tattoo on my back... well then, I have many friends and best of all. Most of all. Dearest and simplest and most fantastic of all. I. Have. Me. I can be alone! True to myself. Happy. Joyful. Magical. Mystical. Creative. Beautiful. Tattood. ME! I'm ready to love someone, I'm ready to love lots of someones -- there are so many possibilities... but I will not limit what I do to myself, by myself, FOR myself... just because it might scare "someone" away "someday".

I finally. Really. Truly. Love. Me.

***end gratuitous self-love and respect****

Okay.. I know that was some graphically gratuitous self-love there (I did warn you).. but this is huge. For me. The person who has been filled with self doubt and self loathing (much of it mom-induced) is able to get over mom-induced self doubt and triumphantly feel stronger than ever before without going to anyone else to get that strength. Stupdendous.

Here's me congratulating myself. WHEEEEE! Now I can sleep in peace and harmony!