So... Memorial Day Weekend has come and gone. On our Memorial Day we packed up the kids and took them to a park to play in the fountains. As with, seemingly, any excursion into the wilds of American civilization, we saw far more adult female skin than we would have preferred. Apparently, Midwestern girls are not all that I was led to believe as I grew up on the West Coast. The phrase pure as the driven snow wasn't the image they seemed to be attempting to convey.
As I was guiding our little bundles of joy through the park, watching them playing in the water, and trying to continually bounce my eyes to skin-free scenery, a thought struck me. There was a time when tattoos on women were a rarity. They represented a rebellious, devil-may-care, rule-breaking attitude. Often, women with ink were outcasts, the oddballs of society. Usually, they were the folks who'd lived rougher, non-mainstream lives. A woman with tattoos stood out because of her uniqueness and unwillingness to conform to societal norms.
Over the past few years, tattoos and piercings have become the norm. Rarely do you see a woman who doesn't have ink. Rarely do you see someone without some sort of bluish-green design peeking out from under a sleeve, creeping out from a neckline, or proudly displayed on an arm or leg. Names, dragons, dolphins, stars, tears, skulls, all adorn every possible part of the bodies of ladies of all ages, all the way down to teenagers. It's become so common that very soon I can foresee a time in which women without these colorful badges of honor will be considered the outcasts, the rebels, the bold ones.
And then I look at you. My amazingly beautiful ray of sunshine. The mere sight of you brings a smile to my face. As corny as it may sound, when you walk into view it's as if light shines down from the sky directly on you. Scenes reminiscent of Garth's first vision of his dreamgirl in Wayne's World play out in my head.
In a society that sees the human form as a blank canvas upon which to color and scribe, I see you as God's perfect sculpture--finely crafted, flawless, perfected. You lack the need to expose yourself to a tattoo artist to cover yourself with etchings, because you are already a masterpiece, a work of art upon which any human alterations would have the effect of graffiti on an otherwise beautiful statue.
And then I realize, in a very short time, you'll be considered a rebel for your refusal to conform to societal norms. You'll be looked down upon by the very ones who revile those who've looked down on them and called them judgmental. They will judge you for not being like them, the same as others have judged them in the past.
So, I guess what I want to say is, thank you for being bold enough to be different. Thank you for understanding that God created you perfectly, without the need for alterations and permanent adornments. Thank you for honoring me as your husband by being modest and not exposing your flesh to the world. Thank you for your moral strength. Thank you for rebelling against the current fads.
I am grateful to you and for you.
I love you.
