Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:30 a.m.
got the tattoo as soon as I healed, the sickly yellow ghost of a bruise still
haunting my skin. The artist questioned my decision, told me it might be better
to wait a few weeks, but I insisted—the symbol of my triumph would not wait. I
had just escaped him, rejected him, that man who made me feel like nothing. Over
the years I endured so many of his slaps and punches and kicks and burns. You
can still see the scars on my wrist where he dug his fingernails in.
Then one night I found courage and strength. My
tattoo shows what happened next: I broke the chains of his shame, rose from the
flames of his abuse. My body emerged, new, beautiful and radiant. I left
everything of my old life behind, even my clothes, for those clothes of
submission would never fit the resilient woman I had become.
Today I heard "She Blinded Me with Science" again when I was grabbing lunch. It's following me.
I'm afraid there won't be a story tomorrow, since I'll be in a car on my way to the great state of Minnesota with some friends! But don't worry; when I get back I'm sure there will be a few stories for you from the Land of 10,000 Lakes.