Who am I?

When I looked in the mirror, I was trying to figure out who was looking back at me. I knew it was me, but I wanted to dig deeper into my soul. Who I truly was. After all the pain and hurt I've been through in my past. The question I always asked myself, Who am I?

I would look at the scars that's on my flesh reminding me of the tragedy that happened to me. The multiple scars on my leg, my pelvic, my hip, and the one that I look at most, across my forehead, as you can see on the picture. Some people said “it’s not noticeable”, but to me it was. All those scars happened so fast and so sudden, but is stuck to my skin as a reminder. Even so, I continued to ask Who am I?

All those scars, yet I still needed to dig deeper. Little did I know, the inside of myself was a very strong person. How did I come up with that? Well see, I’ve been through so much in my past. Some things that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I’ll just explain my story to you.

At such a young age, age six to be exact. I was sexually abused. I didn’t understand what I did to deserve something so cruel. I attended many psychriatrist for help. As years past by and I became older, I started to accept myself and realize it was not my fault. Til this day I still have flashbacks and hate being alone, but it’s not my fault, and I understand it.

I was 9 years old when my mother got killed. A horrible ambulance accident, which I was also in with her. Multiple broken bones, and remember those scars I was talking about earlier well this is how I got most of them. I didn’t get to attend her funeral arrangements, because I was in the hospital. Even had my tenth birthday hospitalized a week later. I didn’t understand at that age anything about death, especially losing a parent. As I got older, I understood life a little better, but for a long time I blamed myself. Again, I had to seek help so I could grieve and realize what happened.

Years past by and I was a teen. Even tho the doctors fixed my broken bones when I was nine. I had to get more surgeries on my leg, causing even more scars. The rods came out of my bone and had to be took out and replaced.

I got married at age Eighteen. Thought I was happy until physical and mental abuse came into the picture. Then it was more like I was trapped. Handprints, bite marks, and all the yelling for his wrongful doings made me feel like I was stuck in a nightmare. I couldn’t get away from it. I knew it was wrong, but I was to scared to leave. Afraid for my life & my unborn child. Even after my child was born the abuse didn’t stop. It was apology, forgiveness, abuse, and repeat. After a year of him “going to change”, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I left and it was the best decision I ever made.

After all the things I have been through in my life, I’m way more then just a “pretty face” as people like to call it. I’m a strong woman. I’ve pushed myself through the impossible. So you see, I use to get upset looking at the mirror and seeing my scars. The constant reminder of my past. Now I look at them and smile! I am who I am because, I’m a survivor! Some tattoos don’t have ink, it just has a story.