Episode 132: The Scars We Choose

We're doing something a little lighter this week. Tattoos! I'm getting a new one soon, and I wanted to reiterate why tattoos are so meaningful to me as a disabled person.

Transcript

TRANSCRIPT OF “THE SCARS WE CHOOSE”

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MALE VO [00:03]
This is Bad Attitudes.

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LAURA [00:20]
Hello, friends and strangers! Welcome to another episode of Bad Attitudes: An Uninspiring Podcast About Disability. I’m your host, Laura.

Last week’s episode was kind of a downer, so let’s bring things up a notch!

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As always, I want to remind you that disability is not a monolith. My experience as a disabled person is going to be different from the experiences of other disabled people. I am one voice for the disabled community, but I am not the only voice.

[02:00]
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I scheduled an appointment for my next tattoo at the beginning of February. I’m super excited, but when I mention it, I inevitably get comments like, “I thought you already had a tattoo.” (Spoiler alert: You can get more than one.) Or, “I just don’t get it.”

That’s fair. Among my immediate family, I am something of an outlier. Between my bright purple hair, my penchant for tattoos, and even my “nerdy” interests, I could be considered the black sheep and would be if my family used these aspects of my personality as an excuse to be abusive.

I have been fascinated by tattoos for a long time. I started daydreaming about getting at least one as a young teen. It’s interesting because I wasn’t exposed to tattoos. The only person in my life who had one was my grandpa on my dad’s side, and it was NEVER a secret that his tattoo was one of his biggest regrets. He was in World War II, in the Navy, on a submarine, and the tattoo was sort of a rite of passage. If I remember correctly, it was a custom to get one when you crossed the equator. I don’t know; my dad will probably listen to this episode at some point and he can correct me.

The point is, my grandpa was, at most, 18 when he got his tattoo and he was likely under a significant amount of peer pressure to do so. I, on the other hand, didn’t get my first tattoo until I was 40, after decades of consideration. I certainly didn’t jump under the needle on a whim.

It’s more than that, though. It’s not just that I love tattoos, even though they are beautiful works of art. Have you ever seen someone with high-quality tattoos? I could stare at them forever.

A really big element for me is the fact that getting tattooed gives me control over my own body. When you’re disabled or chronically ill, more often than not, your body behaves in ways you have no say in. You are subject to the whims of your body more so than your body is subjected to YOUR whims. And that can leave you feeling like you have very little control over anything.

This may even be more true for someone who was a disabled kid. I underwent so many appointments and tests and procedures that I had no real say in. Children don’t have that much autonomy to begin with. Children have very little say in the big aspects of their life. They don’t get to choose where they live or where they go to school. They don’t get to choose whether they have siblings or are an only child. Add a disability or illness to the equation and they lose more control.

I had 10 major operations between the ages of 4 and 15. They were for my own good, of course, and ultimately bettered my life, but if you had asked me at the time if I wanted them, I would have said a resounding NO. And they left their marks. I have multiple scars on both legs, from my ankles to my hips. My spine is one long scar. For most of my life, I wouldn’t wear shorts in public, even in the middle of summer in the south. I wore jeans, always, because I didn’t want people to see my scars. I wasn’t ashamed of them, per se, but they felt personal, private. I didn’t want to share them with the world. And, yes, I was afraid of what people would think.

Somewhere around my mid-30s, I finally said, “Fuck it, it’s hot.” I knew people were going to have thoughts upon seeing my scars, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. There is such a freedom that comes with not caring what other people think.

Still, I don’t LOVE my scars. At best, I’m ambivalent towards them. Mostly, though, I didn’t choose them, and that’s the problem. These marks were left behind by things I didn’t choose.

Think about the way we talk about scars that come from stupid stuff or cool stunts. We talk about them with pride. “This one is from when I took a header off the roof.” They’re badges of honor. More often than not, people WANT to show them off. And even though I no longer care what people think of my scars, I don’t want to show them off.

My tattoos are MY choice. I WANT to show them off. They mean something to me. That’s why it’s so important for me that my tattoos aren’t just aesthetic, they’re also meaningful. My first tattoo is very simple. A single script word: Unbreakable. You know I have OI, commonly known as brittle bone disease. Once upon a time, the OI Foundation had a campaign behind the phrase, “Unbreakable Spirit,” which is where I got the idea. My bones are fragile, but I am not. I bend without breaking.

My next one is going to be just as meaningful, but you’ll have to wait to see what it’s going to be. I will say this, it’s not going to be nearly as simple as the first one, and I am SO excited to see the finished product.

The thing about being different in any way is that people don’t have to “get it,” and generally speaking, they won’t. Only other disabled people TRULY understand what it means to be disabled, much like only other aficionados TRULY understand the lure of tattoos. To be perfectly honest, there are some levels of tattoo love that even I don’t understand. I don’t understand the appeal of face tattoos, for example. I have a lot of questions for Post Malone. I also don’t understand the allure of blackout tattoos, unless you’re covering up something truly heinous.

It doesn’t matter if I understand it. All I have to do is accept it. This is who we are, and we all live with the scars we choose. And some we don’t.

Thanks for listening, and I’ll talk to you in the next one.

[08:08]
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