my body
i sit surrounded by my friends and laugh at surface content. we enjoy ourselves and don't worry about the details. but as i sit i feel the ink of markers burning into my skin. the Xs on my forearms are visable to the rest of the world. they contradict the "amore" on my arm in a radical way.
While the french word for love expresses my confidence in my self and my faith, the other markings speak to the hidden thoughts and many other women (and sometimes myself)who can't accept themselves for who they are. and they are hidden. my hippie skirt and highnecked t-shirt hide the words of shame that cover my body and some of my less favorable curves.
i don't usually walk around covered in self-degrading ink. today i do so because it makes a statement. maybe not to the people sitting in the circle around me, but to the photography artist, her audience, and most importantly myself.
While the french word for love expresses my confidence in my self and my faith, the other markings speak to the hidden thoughts and many other women (and sometimes myself)who can't accept themselves for who they are. and they are hidden. my hippie skirt and highnecked t-shirt hide the words of shame that cover my body and some of my less favorable curves.
i don't usually walk around covered in self-degrading ink. today i do so because it makes a statement. maybe not to the people sitting in the circle around me, but to the photography artist, her audience, and most importantly myself.
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