The moment is what matters….
For years I have thought about a tattoo but a voice within me always asked the same questions. I would justify my decision to not get one just yet on the grounds that I couldn’t decide on anything suitably unique to me. But the real reason was a voice asking me “what if it goes wrong, isn’t even or there’s a mistake?”.
And so I became focussed on the need to have something that was perfect - the same trait that goes with many of the things that have driven me over the years - a perfectionist who seeks validation and hates criticism.
I have always liked to be different but without a tribe or sense of self, my purpose had been in question right up until motherhood. Only now, coming out of a 14 year relationship in which I had drifted from my true self, can I see clarity in what matters most.
It’s the moment. The small things. The ability to choose and put myself first. To say I’m “not okay” and to steer my girls in the direction to confidently navigate their ‘bigger’ emotions and to guide and direct them to be strong, confident girls.
Each expedition race has taught me a little more about myself and I have found like-minded people who get the real me. They see me.
And now I see myself.
“Is that a tattoo mummy?”
I’d kept my new gift to myself hidden for 48 hours just to enjoy the pure joy of finally stepping across the threshold and giving in to the worries about having someone make a permanent mark on me. Back in Iceland last August, I had marvelled at a US Physicians’ tattoos - they were amazing. “Just go with something that matters to you at that time” - and so I did.
Iceland taught me a lot. It brought with it connection, natural wonders, peace and energy. And through it, I found love. An abundance of love for myself and the realisation that I had been missing love in my life for a long time.
So at midnight one evening, I designed a tattoo that encompassed fire, mountains, aurora and a location. I had always liked the idea of coordinates - I love maps, travel and adventure - so this was always going to be something that featured in a tattoo - but I could never justify the (perfect) place.
But what did the moment really represent? I see the delight in my face as the artwork was adapted and stencilled onto my arm. The thrill of not knowing what it would feel like. The buzzing, not-really-that-painful pain. People now see a tattoo and wonder what it means. I’ll let you into a secret - and not what you think.
I met a patient on the 1st March 2026 who had a brilliant tattoo. I often admire them on others and will ask about their ink as I examine them. I like to know the story. It was later that evening I designed mine and booked my appointment two days later.
The day I walked in for my tattoo was a week after I was handed a document that changed the direction I was trying to carve for my future self. A purely selfish, misdirected and entirely foolish decision to elicit control.
During my appointment, I talked and opened up about what was going on and my fears about having a tattoo. Little did I know that everything I had considered might happen did. My design was flawed - it had an error and the coordinates later appeared to have been somewhere slightly south.
But, amidst the chaos and thousands of pounds that I’ve currently parted with to protect and provide for my two cubs, this Mama Bear has no regrets about her tattoo.
It represents a life being lived amidst the chaos.
