A Picture's Worth 1000 Words

My first tattoo, it's fair to say, was a mistake of epic proportions. I fell into the same trap as many before me and saw my wrist encumbered with the name of a lover, whose enchantment was already beginning to break.

The experience however, did have its advantages. I did not fear the needle and the pain, compared to things I had experienced before, was to me, minimal. I liked to see my skin inked. On the same day I had a second tattoo done, the Rune mark for freedom.

The reason I gave at the time for having it done, in many ways still holds true, though I misinterpreted it myself at the time. Having read the Runes from a young age after being introduced to the practice by my Father, I hold them in high esteem. I have several sets, each used for different purposes and each given to me by people I love and who understand their meaning to me. I had always wanted to have them etched upon me. When I had my lovers name pressed into me, I had the Rune done second and said that it was because I believed he had freed me to be myself. He had, just not in the way either of us expected. I regained myself with them, but not through him. He freed me from the idea that I required approval, because I realised that no matter what I did, I would never gain his and I did not need it. Where his name once took pride of place, in its place is now a cover up. A Crown, chosen by a man that named me Queen. It was my fourth tattoo.

My son, at that time almost four had not spoken. His Autism had the greatest impact on his communication and yet I found that I could understand him. We didn't need to speak to know each other. When voice was needed his heart met mine and I gave it for him.

James, like his mother before him, adored Toy Story. We spent countless hours together watching the movies over and over again. It calmed him and brought him joy, and so, I had my right thigh inked, in my son's honour.

I am his voice, he is my heart. I have learned more about myself and the world through my son, that I learned in the twenty years before I first held him.

I have two further tattoos planned. One for my daughter, now facing her own ASD diagnosis process. Her obsession is Frozen. So my left thigh will stand as monument to her.

And for myself?

I've always loved Alice in Wonderland. The darker story holds with my own life. Author Christina Henry, provided a spin on the traditional story, seeing Alice rise from the ashes of The White Rabbit and The Cheshire Cat that plagued her early life and saw to drive her to insanity and find love with The Mad Hatter, who shared in what others would call "madness."

I want my body to tell the story of my life. I want every piece of artwork to have meaning. I want to make my body my own, as so many have tried to take that right from me. I want every tattoo to cry out, 'Never Again.' This is a woman who knows her own story, her own worth, her own strength and who understand how she got to where she is and who she is.

I am a Mother, I am an Autism Mother, I am a believer in the old ways, I am a survivor and my body will show every moment of that.