Who Am I?

I am sitting on a stool with my pants pulled down, just past my hips, as an artist named Max tattoos three characters on my lower back.

Three simple reminders of who I am.

You see somewhere along the path of my life, I lost sight of who I was, what dreams I had and what I had wanted to become.  Losing my voice and my way, I became what others wanted to see in front of them.

Stripped away of my confidence, my belief and my raison d'être, I became a black and white shadow in my own life.  A secondary character who would be missed in a crowd of two.  Looking around at the very beige surroundings I had created for myself, I knew I had to inject some colour back into my life.  Bright, vivid, techno colour.  The stuff rainbows were made up of. Beige was not who I was and definitely not what I wanted to be remembered as.

First stop was that tattoo parlour.

And I did it.  

Branding myself, forever,  in an indelible ink, to always remind me of who I am. 

Woman.  Mother.  Daughter.

The three things that would never change. 

This was how I began my journey of figuring out who I am.

Of falling for me.