#LoveMe Challenge Day 7: One Thing That’s Just For Me


Day Seven: One thing that’s just for me.

This one is surprisingly tough! It’s amazing how many of the things we think of as being ‘ours’ also belong to or involve someone else. It’s much harder to think of something that is just for you and is in no way for anyone else.

Or perhaps that’s just the codependent in me talking. Or it’s a bit of both.

Every time I go to type something I realize how it is connected to someone else. Which is interesting/disconcerting, in a good, mind expanding sort of way.

Okay, I think I’ve got it.

My tattoo. Well, a specific one. The word “Gethsemane” in a beautiful script. One of 5 tattoos, but the one that is the most… mine. Most Christians are familiar with the name, but even that is by no means universal. Gethsemane was the garden where Jesus begged God to not have to go through with the crucifixion, was in such stress and anguish He was sweating blood, and after hours of communing with His Father, said “Thy will, not Mine.” (or some variation depending on translation or who is referencing it). It has always held significance for me, both biblically, and because my father, a lover of both music and alternative/interesting viewpoints on theological concepts, introduced me to Jesus Christ Superstar (the 1973 film version starring Ted Neeley) when I was somewhere under 5. The song Gethsemane, and especially with Ted Neeley’s incredible vocals, always effected me deeply.

For your viewing pleasure:

The power of his pain, his exhaustion, his desperation, always struck me. I imagined that everyone would probably have their own “Gethsemane” at some point in their lives, a moment of pain and agony and fear and yet eventually, coming to a place of peace. That this would happen to everyone at some point in their own way was never taught to me, it was just sort of something I sensed about the world and felt in my bones to be true.

I got the tattoo after a betrayal by a friend that cut me so deeply that I retreated from humanity almost entirely for a while. It was a tattoo I had known I would someday get from the time I started planning on getting ink, and that was the event that finally got it etched into my skin. It was not the only Gethsemane moment I have experienced, but that was and is irrelevant to me. What matters to me is how that painful arc ends: a place of peace and acceptance, and the struggle that it takes to get to that end.

That’s why it’s just mine. Because it’s about my struggles, my darkest hours, my throwdowns with God that left me, in the end, at peace with so many different things.

An Anonymous Outsider

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