She Strengthens

Tattoos and Trauma: A Journey of Self-Discovery

As I settled back into my fatherland, Uruguay, I knew I wanted to commemorate my heritage with new tattoos. I already had 24, but I was saving space for designs that represented my patria, a Spanish term that embodies pride of one’s country. A tattoo artist on Tinder caught my attention, and I agreed to let him work on me. I provided artistic direction for three tattoos, but I didn’t do my due diligence – a critical mistake.

A Dangerous Encounter

When I arrived at his house, my instincts screamed warning signs. He led me into his bedroom, and I discovered he was self-taught, having learned by tattooing his own thighs just months prior. As he started working, I grew increasingly uneasy. He smoked cigarettes and took hits from a joint, ignoring my pleas to stop due to my asthma. The final straw came when he casually mentioned that he got into tattooing because he loved hurting people. His deadpan delivery sent shivers down my spine, and I knew I had to escape.

Confronting My Impulses

I’ve always been drawn to spontaneity, often to a fault. As a survivor of multiple instances of sexual assault, I’ve developed a devil-may-care attitude, especially around men. According to Dr. Suzanna Chen, psychiatrist, traumatic events can lead to reckless decision-making as a way to regain control and overcome feelings of powerlessness. However, this mindset often puts me in harm’s way.

The Strength to Leave

What sets this experience apart is that I finally found the courage to cut my losses and prioritize my safety. The tattoo artist’s disturbing behavior was a wake-up call, and I realized that my impulse to see things through was outweighed by my need for self-preservation. As Babita Spinelli, licensed Psychotherapist, notes, it takes strength to leave a situation you’ve intentionally participated in.

Lessons Learned

Six months have passed since the tattoo date, and I’ve come to terms with the experience. The tattoos themselves hold deep significance – a laurel on the nape of my neck and the Uruguayan country motto, Libertad o Muerte, on my chest. However, I’ve learned to think more critically about the situations I put myself in. If I feel compelled to see something through, it’s likely a sign that I shouldn’t be doing it at all. By prioritizing my safety and weighing the potential consequences, I’m working to break free from my reckless tendencies.

Embracing Caution

As I continue to navigate my journey, I’m coming to appreciate the strength of saying no to situations that spark my interest but pose a risk to my well-being. It’s an ongoing challenge, but I’m committed to making more informed decisions that prioritize my safety above all else.