Witch Tattoo
A Mark of Resilience and Rebirth
I love her. She is me.
She symbolizes depression, rage, strength, courage, intention, joy and liberation.
Depression is a bitch. The feeling of hopelessness can slowly erode your spirit, muting the daily joys of life. I don't necessarily love my job, but it pays the bills and allows my family to live our version of life. The issue is, my job can create so much stress, and I often feel undervalued. This is what it feels like to be a woman in a male-dominated industry. Actually, this is what it feels like to be a woman in society.
Around the election, I was somewhat depressed and unmotivated. November 6th was a horrible day that I will never forget. Everything caught up to me—the stress, the anxiety, the hopelessness, the sadness. The world got a little darker that day, and I had a severe panic attack. I cried and cried and cried.
And yes….I see in blue, while so many around me see in red.
Rage is a new emotion for me. On November 7th, I woke up consumed by feminine rage. I was appalled by the things I saw on social media about women's bodies, as if women are not considered equal to men. We literally birth life! The idea that anyone believes they have the right to make decisions about a woman's body makes my blood boil.
More on that another time…but also fuck the patriarchy!
I don't understand why some people believe it's acceptable to treat those who live differently as if they deserve fewer basic human rights. Everyone deserves the chance to live their life on their terms in peace with joy and love, regardless of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, or any other factor.
Needless to say, I was furious that day. But for the first time, I spoke up, and it felt absolutely incredible.
Strength and courage have always been familiar companions, but it's been a while since I last felt truly courageous. I managed to ignite a tiny flame of my voice, but I didn't know how to nurture it. I was still overwhelmed by negativity, seeing the world through a lens of frustration and doubt.
I had to pause and ask myself: What’s my intention? How do I plan to use this newfound tool? Do I have the courage to speak up, even when my voice shakes? But speak up in what way? I could add to the negativity, or I could choose to spread positivity, joy, motivation, and connection.
Why? Because I crave it—and the world needs it.
And so, I will keep speaking—sometimes softly, sometimes loudly, but always with joy in my heart. We all deserve to find moments of peace and joy amidst the chaos, whether it’s a slow morning with a cup of coffee, planting seeds in my garden, reading a romantic witchy fantasy book, watching AEW wrestling with my husband, watching him practice Taekwondo with our son, seeing the joy in my baby niece’s face while she eats literally anything, or watching her run around the living room to collect Nerf gun bullets while my son and other nieces have a Nerf gun war.
Chocolate also always brings me joy.
Joy isn't about being free from pain; it's about finding ourselves again, no matter the challenges. It's about living fully, even when the world tries to silence us.
Joy doesn’t come all at once. It’s not some magical end result that will fix everything. Joy is like breathing—sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, sometimes forced, but always there, always waiting. I’m learning to choose joy, even when the world is hard and even when I feel small.
And when I look in the mirror, I see her—my witch tattoo, a mark of strength I’ve built and the joy I reclaimed. This is my magic. This is my liberation. And it feels fucking amazing.
And remember, think happy thoughts.