"I'm personally not attracted to you, but that's just because I know you."

I knew in the decision making stage that some people would dislike, or even be offended by the fact I have tattoos on my arms for all to see.  I took that into consideration, and decided to go ahead and do it anyway.  I did not make that choice in order to rebel or in an effort to begin confrontation, but I knew it might be construed as such.  

I have only had 3 somewhat negative responses to my tattoos since getting them in April, and they are all so eerily similar I had to share.  All three were elderly men, who approached me, in my opinion, speaking in a....cantankerous manner.  They said something to the effect of; What's this you have going on here, what are those words?  I'd reply, nicely, It is a poem called i carry your heart by e.e. cummings.  All THREE men backed down.  They gruffly mumbled something like Well then. and wandered away.  

What the fuck?   Here's my questions; is it that it's A poem?  Is is that it's THAT poem?  Why does it matter?  If you were all ready to be annoyed and condescending about words written on my body why does it matter what words are there?  Why do they care if I have a poem or George Carlin's list of forbidden words tattooed on me? They never have to see it again.  How does it being a poem make it less wrong?  I'm so bewildered.  

Otherwise all reactions have been positive, but MY reactions are what surprised me the most.  If I don't know you, or am not feeling particularly...forthcoming I'll tell them the above, and fold my arms.  I'm never rude, I always smile, and I didn't even realize I was doing it for the longest time.  People get the hint, and I've never had anyone pursue it.  If your a friend, or a friend of a friend, or I'm feeling safe and open, or I'm drunk, I offer my arms for people read them.

This is very very strange.  In order for them to see it, they have to enter my personal space, because it's facing me.  I have to open my arms, as if to embrace them, exposing metaphorically and literally, (HA! I'm full of puns!) my soft white underbelly.  They generally reach out to hold my arm still and I allow them to read the words of my heart written on my skin and then answer the questions.  Rarely do I tell of the deep meaning, my beautiful daughter comes up, but the losses, they remain stuck in my throat and in my watery smile when I accept the compliment of how pretty the tattoos are, although they are always on my mind. 

I don't speak about my babies often other than here.  I don't hide from it, I just don't initiate it, so to encourage others to potentially start the conversation that could lead us there, is a big deal for me.  I'm not ashamed of my feelings, my grief and sadness, I don't think they should be hidden, they are just so large still, so overwhelming for me to feel.  I have to let them out when I feel safe enough to do it, and that's a rare moment for me.  

The tattoos aren't only about my babies, they're for G, they're for me, and I still love them so much.  I'm glad I waited to get the third verse until after we've completed our conception journey.  Hopefully we'll be done because we've had the second child we long for, but if that's not the case, it'll give me some closure I'll undoubtedly need, and something to look forward to.  I love getting me some tattoos.

*My quote, shitballs I don't know where I got this one either.  It might be from Girls, I need to start writing this down when I put them into my phone.  Also, I'm running out of quotes, my complete lack of tv/movie watching is putting a hamper on my quote collection skills.  Perhaps I should read a book.  *sigh*