9- Madison A: Proof in Ink (core memory)

Giving myself a tattoo on the bathroom floor with a safety pin and cheap ink seems like a core memory, although it had only happened a few months ago. It felt as though I was making a core memory as I had done it, which was inherently my goal when deciding the timing, placement, and design of the tattoo. I enjoyed the idea that I was in control of a memory, that I decided when and where it would happen. I was doing something significant. Impactful. 

While it wasn’t much, the small star on my left forearm is proof that this core memory exists. I’ve always felt the need to have an opportune “high school experience”. Instead of being excited to achieve this vision, I felt burdened by it. I never felt content with the experience that I had, and it often felt like a watered down version of what I should be experiencing in high school. It was far from perfect. High school was awkward, and surrounded by people who knew little about themselves and others. Nothing is reminiscent of the high schools we see in TV or the movies, and when I think about my experience in comparison it felt like I was the one responsible for my discontent.

Even so, I decided to do what most parents wish their child would never do during their adolescence. I consider myself to be a very spur of the moment type of person, but choosing to give myself a tattoo was not one of those moments. While I thought very hard before ultimately deciding to do it, I knew that regret was out of my control and would pass as any other emotion. In the days following the completion of my tattoo, it felt as though the goal and expectations I had of high school were released from my psyche. The fantasy of an extravagant high school experience was complete, and I no longer felt as if I was missing out on a large part of my life. 

High school is something that I had the privilege to experience. I now focus on what this time has given me, as opposed to wishing I had done more or living up to an near-impossible expectation. I live by what feels good to me, whether I would come to regret my choices or not. Although my high school experience was not ideal nor brag worthy, it was something that gave me purpose… and is on my skin to prove it. 

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