Left forearm. Of course my mom held my hand while crossing the street to the grocery store. When her MS escalated, she would hold onto my left forearm to stabilize herself as we crossed the street.
If I’ve already covered this, too bad, I’m doing it again. Let us start at the bottom.
Blue: For the boy I was.
The wide pink: For when persona-Alice took over. She’s still taking care of me now and then.
Red: The anger that finally came to the surface. But also, feeling all the love from so many sources.
Four white lights: Well, I’ll let Captain Jean-Luc Picard help a bit to explain:
As in speaking my truth regarding my rape. As well, white symbolizes purity and, again, truth.
Have been contemplating a purple haze around it. Not sure why. Should there be a defined outline, or just color? Not sure. On the one hand, good thing I’ve been meditating on this tattoo so much, to make sure I get it right. On the other hand, I should get my bum moving on getting this done.
(I’m pro-vaccine, but fear doctor-needles far more than tattoo-needles. Might be a childhood association? Do recall once having to be held down because I panicked.... DIGRESSING.)
Oh, but more! When I played floor hockey in high school, my left forearm got so bruised from making saves. (As a 125lb goalie.) And. I broke my right tibia in the 3rd grade, so might not be a surprise that I favor my left side, despite being right-handed.