Disclaimer: My skin does not actually have the ability to grow roses. That would be incredible, probably the coolest superpower ever. However, I have found an alternative that is just as fascinating: tattoos. I have four tattoos, among which you can find five roses. The following is an explanation of why I’ve got so many of those beautiful flowers inked permanently onto my skin, and my inclination towards the symbolism behind them.
To start: For longer than I’d like to admit, I have grappled with self-harm tendencies. It was an issue during adolescence, and is an issue I’d like not to take with me into my adulthood and the rest of my life. It is not something for which I feel regret or harbor resentment, but I can never let go of the nagging notion in the back of my head that I deserve better. All the times I was horrible to myself, all the times I neared a dangerous point, it’s the idea of the roses that has saved me from returning to that point. Here’s why.
Roses are beautiful; they’re gorgeous, there’s no doubt about that in my mind. I believe that’s a fact. I don’t know how I’d feel about trusting a person who said they believed roses aren’t pretty. They represent something that has a beauty that’s so traditional. They have become known as a staple of love.
(above: the first three roses; second tat overall)
The rose as a symbol, depending on the color (my favorite of course being red), can take on a plethora of different meanings. One of my favorites is the symbolism in terms of tarot: it’s considered a symbol of balance. During preliminary research for the earliest of mine, I came across this one particular meaning behind rose tattoos: “The beauty of this flower expresses promise, hope, and new beginnings.”
That was my mindset upon inking them onto my skin: that I wanted to adorn myself with roses as a promise that I will treat myself better, that I’ll be more kind to this temple of a body I’ve been blessed with. I am decorating my temple, making it a place that is comfortable for me to live in. The flowers remind me that this is a safe space, one with whom together we will live life, it is not intended to be an unsafe zone, and that I should plan accordingly.
(above: the newest two as part of a larger overall 4th tattoo)
They stand as a reminder that I will not be cruel to myself again. My skin molts, evolves with each petal that’s drawn in. In a way, considering that the beauty of tattoos does not come without pain, it can be a tad masochistic, but it is better than, perhaps, the alternative.
Three of the five roses are blooming, not fully formed. The other two are fully bloomed flowers, illustrating significant milestones. Looking at my skin, affixed with these deeply symbolic flora, I become more proud of the person I am, and stand more in awe of the strength and resiliency I’ve had to adopt in order to progress. They bring to mind the reason that they’re there in the first place.
Their goal is the grounding feeling I get each time I look at them. Having had the oldest of them for just over a whole year now, the effect has been revitalizing and invigorating. They are the hope to move forward. They’re charming little reminders that I’m on a journey into a better, more productive, more vibrant direction than before.
