One of my earliest memories of my grandmother on my father’s side was her telling me to never ever follow in my mother’s footsteps and be FAT. She would tell me that fat people aren’t the type of people that others want to socialize with.  “You don’t ever want to be fat like your mother!” (Did I mention that my dad’s mother wasn’t too keen on my mom?).  Back then as a little kid i would go home, look at my mom and not understand what grandma was talking about.  My mom wasn’t ‘fat’ at all.  She had what we would call today a ‘badonkadonk’ butt, but she was one of the last full time stay at home super wife/mom of the 70’s.  This label that was placed on her by my grandmother was unfair and cruel, and sort of introduced me to what body shaming was at an early age.  

Flash forward to my early teens and I would fluctuate on my weight pretty often. Nothing extreme but over time I noticed that clothes stopped fitting so well.  

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My shameful secret. 

So I have a confession to make… A shameful, embarrassing, stupid thing that I did without thinking, without caring about the consequences.  I had just escaped out from under the thumb of my ex,  moved to Seattle and was suddenly exposed to a social life that didn’t have to be pre approved by anyone. Friends I worked with would go out dancing, bar hopping, wandering around downtown Seattle savoring the nightlife.  No, we weren’t sluts, that wasn’t our goal for going out.   We just wanted to have fun, dance, drink and laugh.  One of my friends had a little apartment a short walk (up a steep hill) from a club called the FENIX UNDERGROUND.  It was one badass club with multiple dance floors and music pumpin’ until 3-4am on weekends. We would go there and basically shut that place down then make the staggery trek (in our heeled boots) up that hill to her place to crash out.  One summer I think I slept on her floor more than at my own place.  

It was also during that time that I was introduced to Goldschlager.  Shots and shots of it.  I get nauseous even thinking about it now. 

But anyways, it was those series of events that lead me one day to do something especially stupid.  I got a really bad tattoo!  I haven’t shown many people this since I finally smartened up and realized that what I had inked on my pelvic area looked nothing more than a poorly drawn donut.  It was fully intended to be a halo. Why a halo?   Because that was my online persona nickname at the time.  So I went down to a tattoo place at Greenlake with a friend and we had tattoos done, side by side.  Hers was WAY cooler!  She had a pagan symbol inked in on the same area that I did. It was so impressive that the tattoo artist took pictures of hers after he was done.  Did he take any pictures of mine?   Would you?  ‘Nuff said.  

Since then I’ve fluctuated on my weight and my gut has bloated out my tattoo where I’ve just tried to forget I even have one down there.   But with my recent weight loss I’ve decided to work towards a new goal.  Once my tummy area is a bit more ‘firmed’, I want to get this ugly ass tattoo covered and have something prettier and more like me added there instead.  So far I’ve found some really beautiful ideas on Pinterest which I’m considering.  I’d love to put in a little tribute to my sister as well as a few other things that express me as who I am.  So far I’ve come up with these three ideas.   This will be a work in progress, and i still have a good 20 lbs to go until I reach my weight loss goal so there’s still time. I’m pretty sure this new tattoo i choose is going to hurt a LOT more than the halo did, but bring on the pain!  I’m really excited about this!