Thursday, August 30, 2012


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:30 a.m. 

I 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.

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