To say that I have been crafting this post for the better part of a month is an understatement, and to be quite honest I cut everything out of it. It was too blathery.

I chose yesterday to get tattooed, for a very real reason. I chose Cobr’abs for the artist because we share similar myth mentalities. He understands the symbols, although he may not have understood why I had them installed.

Two years ago (today) I was raped. It feels strange to say. At the same time it feels all too far away, as well as all too recently. But this is the nail in the coffin. I am done feeling bad about this. These tattoos are reminders that it does not define me. That ideas, forced stereotypes, or archaic beliefs of how people who’ve been raped should be represented, do not actually speak for me.