Good day my fellow wattpadders of this crazy universe we call the Internet. 

PS: Jett says Hi ^^^

I come to you today with a lighter heart and a spring in my step - a rarity these past years.

As some of you may have been notified, the amazing Artist Kat Paine was designing a beautiful tattoo for me, and last week we finally got down to inking the gorgeous design.

Here's the finished result;

It's a fusion of watercolour art, abstract design, and the visual representation of the art of writing.  Kat is very talented in this form and has tattooed the actresses of Game of Thrones with their own meaningful, feminine, tattoos.  So I'm very fortunate to have had this sweet lady work on this for me.

Now, I know some of you may ask why on earth would I tattoo my body?  But to answer this, and especially for my younger or more spiritually inclined friends, I felt I could explain in a little story...because I am a writer. And I feel that my duty is to write the truth in everything, not to cause discord, but to bring understanding and unity.

So, this story begins many years ago with a girl on the cusp of womanhood (me obviously).

I was a studious youth, quiet, reserved, but equally very curious and creative.  My family were quite poor and I had managed to secure a scholarship at a prestigious University to study.   So, I knew I was bright and born with enough gumption to fight off 3000 people for one of 60 places - I was going to go places I was sure of it.

Disaster struck in the first month I started University.  I became ill with very strange symptoms.   Naturally worried I went home to my Mother and told her about the awful and embarrassing pains I was having.  We visited our local GP who instantly suggested I take a pregnancy test.  I was gobsmacked - unless it was the immaculate conception I was pretty sure the only baby in there was a food baby from the oversized burrito I had for lunch!

When I laughed this off and told the doctor it was impossible, she then sent my mother from the room and asked me the question again - obviously disbelieving me.   I became very embarrassed at this point and reluctantly agreed for the doctor to examine me to prove I wasn't pregnant. 

It was a cold and humiliating experience.  The doctor was most irritated that she couldn't find any evidence of a baby and so referred me to the hospital for investigations.  At the time I was told that it must be to do with either my bladder or Kidneys, but the hospital consultants would know better.

A number of weeks later I was summoned to a clinic with a vague letter.  I arrived and was taken to a small office with an older, grey haired, obese, male, doctor.  He spoke into his dictaphone and addressed me as 'female subject'.  I was an eighteen year old girl and very frightened at this point. 

From here he ordered me to remove my lower half and lie on the table on the far side of the room, where strange looking monitors were set up.  

This was not a clinical room. It was filled with old, dusty, shelves, and medicine books. There were cardboard boxes in the corner and administrative paraphernalia lying on grubby carpet. Something didn't feel right...

...I began to tremble and immediately said 'no'. 

The doctor was not happy.  He angrily reminded me that if I didn't do as I was told then I would be discharged and I would get no further help.  I was advised that if I wanted to get better than I had to be a mature adult about things.

So, terrified that I would get no help for my strange and scarily painful symptoms, I did as he told me.

Now, to avoid embarrassment over sensitive content I will leave the rest to your imagination.  What the doctor preformed that day was what they call an internal ultrasound.   This was after it had already been determined that my symptoms were not gynaecological and none of this was necessary.  However, the manner in which he preformed the procedure was both painful, rough, humiliating, and traumatising - and now that I am a grown woman I know it was entirely wrong!

I wish I could say that this was my only experience with abuse from professionals, but it was only the beginning.  Under the same team at the hands of a different male doctor, assisted by female nurses, I was put through a horrific exploratory surgery that left me seriously ill and traumatised beyond help - again what they did that day was very, VERY, wrong. 

It was these events that shaped my early opinion and view of my body and worth as a woman.  I became withdrawn, terrified of doctors and professionals, and I wouldn't allow men to even hold my hand or put an arm around me.  I was ashamed and guilty.  I blamed myself for allowing these things to happen and then also began justifying why the abuse was allowed to happen to me, effectively giving the doctors an excuse.

Needless to say I was diagnosed with a chronic pain illness affecting the bladder known as IC, and then later Global Pelvic Dysfunction, as a result of the trauma from the above incidents.

For six years I carried the shame.  I put on weight, I stopped caring, and I hid away from people - my anxiety crippling.  In public I was easily frightened and when  strange men spoke to me I would seize with fear.  I could never tolerate a boyfriend and all my attempted relationships failed after only a few dates - I couldn't touch them and I only became distressed if they touched me, even just in a friendly manner. 

After this point I began to write, and this is why To Live Again exists.  I met kind writers online that all had their own stories to tell.  These people gave me courage - they helped me see my talent with words and emotions were foreshadowing something in my past that I needed to address.

This year, for the first time, I was able to speak about my abuse.  This year, for the first time, I was able to look at my body in the mirror and not see something shameful and ruined.  This year, for the first time, I stopped being a Victim - I became a free woman!

Empowered and on shaky, new, ground, I am learning how to be a strong woman.  I lost several stone in weight, I cut my hair, and I learned all about beauty and skincare so I could care for my body and love it like I should.

Other things happened too!  I made friends and my writing expanded.  I officially write a monthly articles for Official-Visible, My fanfics are collectively becoming more popular and being recognised across the various platforms and the fandom.  I am a novelist and taking my new found skills into the publishing world one brave new step at a time. I continue to work in Occupational Therapy for the time being, because it's rewarding to help individuals through their own struggles and be part of their own stories, maybe only briefly and as a passing character.

As this year progressed my family and I hit yet even more traumatising and life-changing circumstances, but I discovered something in the midst of that...I was strong. Members of my family were falling apart but I held fast. I was able to give up myself and my ego and concentrate solely on caring for those closest to me as needed, as best I could, and usually with very little sleep. I wasn't a victim anymore, not even in this new and earth shattering bombshell event, I wasn't going to be a victim...never again!

To celebrate my story - as tumultuous, frightening, and almost soap opera level drama as it was - I made plans to have the tattoo designed.

The way soldiers carry scars, or olympians carry medals, or tribal leaders paint their skin; I have my own badge of honour. It sits just under my heart, on my left side, running the feminine curve of my ribs. It's my Writer's Quill and it makes me feel confident. I know that I'll be excited to wear a cut out swimsuit or bikini in the summer now - I stopped swimming due to the pain and it's another thing I returned to this year. I also know that for the most part it's hidden under my clothes, and in a place that only those who earn my hard fought trust and love, will ever get to touch.

The experience itself was cathartic and so very open and warm. I talked designs and ideas with the studio artists who sent my final inspiration sheet to Kat, who designed the Quill. We met on the day of the procedure and she welcomed me with big smiles and lots of information. We talked about the shape, the placement, and the art. She asked permission to touch me, she told me what she was doing at every stage, and finally when she began to tattoo she told me that we could stop at any time as the ribs were a very painful place to be tattooed.

I never flinched once...I'd felt much more disabling pain.

It is very strange how a tattoo artist, who works up close and personal with the human body and inflicts a very painful procedure, can have more respect, care, and reverence for the human body than a doctor, who takes oaths to do no harm.

A doctor broke me but a tattoo artist helped heal me.

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If anyone reading this was affected by the content please don't hesitate to PM me or speak to someone you trust asap. Remember that anyone forcing you, cajoling you, or manipulating you into being touched in a way you deem inappropriate is entirely wrong and you do not have to stand for it - NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE!

Also, I don't suggest everyone goes out and gets a tattoo to feel better about themselves and their bodies. Having a tattoo and the process of getting one is a very personal experience and choice. It's a piece of art that will be on your skin forever so it's not something to be considered lightly. But if you do decide to get a tattoo seek reputable artists who work out of proper studios. These are (should be) professional, highly trained, and trustworthy people. And always make sure any artist is certified on health and safety, needle care, and blood virus. However any reputable artist or studio usually won't even let you through the door if you don't read their policies and see their training and certificates. They are artists after all and their reputation is everything - you are effectively wearing their talent.
:)