Celebrating Every Inch
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
...But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
...Welcome is every organ and attribute of me...
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile,
and none shall be less familiar than the rest."
~Song of Myself by Walt Whitman
I am considering getting a tattoo on my left arm. Although I have scars from head to toe, the one on my left arm especially bothers me. It is very dark and wraps around my entire upper arm. The scar tissue is so deep that it adheres to the muscle and causes me physical pain as well as a feeling of embarrassment. The first two years after the attack I wore garments and really didn't give it much thought. Oh, I remember very well the first summer after losing the garments and taking a real look at the damage. I was shopping with my daughters and looked at the mirror in a dressing room and cringed at the sight of it. To this day, I do not like to go shopping! It may sound shallow and trite but I have felt a lot of anger and grief over that poor arm. Although it is now a part of my body, it feels like a foreign object that has attached itself to me. I'm actually relieved when fall comes and the summer tops and short sleeves are put away.
Even still, I want to accept every inch of me, those that I was "born with" and those that are part of my evolution. Although, the doctors suggested many plastic surgeries for the scars on my face and neck, I have opted to use makeup, healing products and a diamond stud in my nose as if to say, "This is the new me!" I'm learning to accept the many changes in my appearance but I have found that it is a journey. My left arm is especially scarred because I held the hose over my head in my left hand as I tried to "put out the fire" that burned my whole body, so my upper arm never got rinsed as well. In fact, it was probably that arm that saved me from further damage.
Until this moment, I have felt such anger and frustration over that unsightly scar and the fact that I now have to deal with pain and muscle weakness as well. But, the thought just occurred to me that it is time to celebrate the arm that saved me; the part of me that refused to stop fighting, the hero in my own body that loved me and fought to rescue me.
And so, I think that I shall fashion a beautiful tribute to my scarred left arm and wear it with pride. It will be the sign that Becky refused to give up... no matter the cost. I will "welcome every attribute of me, and none shall be less familiar than the rest."
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
...But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
...Welcome is every organ and attribute of me...
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile,
and none shall be less familiar than the rest."
~Song of Myself by Walt Whitman
I am considering getting a tattoo on my left arm. Although I have scars from head to toe, the one on my left arm especially bothers me. It is very dark and wraps around my entire upper arm. The scar tissue is so deep that it adheres to the muscle and causes me physical pain as well as a feeling of embarrassment. The first two years after the attack I wore garments and really didn't give it much thought. Oh, I remember very well the first summer after losing the garments and taking a real look at the damage. I was shopping with my daughters and looked at the mirror in a dressing room and cringed at the sight of it. To this day, I do not like to go shopping! It may sound shallow and trite but I have felt a lot of anger and grief over that poor arm. Although it is now a part of my body, it feels like a foreign object that has attached itself to me. I'm actually relieved when fall comes and the summer tops and short sleeves are put away.
Even still, I want to accept every inch of me, those that I was "born with" and those that are part of my evolution. Although, the doctors suggested many plastic surgeries for the scars on my face and neck, I have opted to use makeup, healing products and a diamond stud in my nose as if to say, "This is the new me!" I'm learning to accept the many changes in my appearance but I have found that it is a journey. My left arm is especially scarred because I held the hose over my head in my left hand as I tried to "put out the fire" that burned my whole body, so my upper arm never got rinsed as well. In fact, it was probably that arm that saved me from further damage.
Until this moment, I have felt such anger and frustration over that unsightly scar and the fact that I now have to deal with pain and muscle weakness as well. But, the thought just occurred to me that it is time to celebrate the arm that saved me; the part of me that refused to stop fighting, the hero in my own body that loved me and fought to rescue me.
And so, I think that I shall fashion a beautiful tribute to my scarred left arm and wear it with pride. It will be the sign that Becky refused to give up... no matter the cost. I will "welcome every attribute of me, and none shall be less familiar than the rest."
posted by Becky Spellman Waltz at 9:59 AM
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