Updated: Mar 31, 2020

My dove tattoo lies just above my left wrist. It represents peace and calm. As a Christian I believe the dove to be a symbol of the Holy Spirit.

The dove portrays a period in my life when I felt the presence of tranquility.

And for a short time, I did.

My dove makes me feel secure and grounded, yet also possesses an ability to fly me away to pastures new.

The dove is a truly beautiful creature.

Its beauty can settle even the most anxious of minds.

My dove can take me under the wings and envelop me in love, forever.

written by katie


Updated: Mar 31, 2020

In March last year, my sisters and I gathered in the south of France where the youngest had moved a few months before.

It was the first time we were away together, just the three of us. Away from our parents. Away from the noise of the past.

The time of squabbling and arguing was over. We rediscovered each other over a weekend. It almost felt like I had just met these two young women.

Turns out, we really got on.

The first night, we talked and we hugged a lot.

We said that even though we now live miles away, we would always support each other. Our childhood may have been messy, but we realised we were now old enough to make our own choices.

We talked about our grandmother, on the English side of the family, and of the things she had taught us. We talked about those moments when all of life seems bad, and we laughed about the fact the three of us do the same thing: we make a cup of tea, and by the time the teabag is in place, by the time the water is boiled and poured, we already feel a little bit better. It's our Englishness.

We decided to get a matching tattoo.

We didn't talk about it much. One of my sisters scribbled on the back of a receipt from a cafe.

We would all get a tiny cup of tea, with its steam bringing warmth towards our hearts.

It's a story about a promise. A secret pact.

It's a story about becoming an adult.

It's a story about three young women realising they will never be alone.

written by ninon


Updated: Mar 31, 2020

It was my first time at the Edinburgh Fringe.

I walked into the tattoo parlour outside my hostel, asked if they could do this for me and got an appointment.

I woke up at 3am the next week to watch the sunrise from Arthur's Seat, downed a bottle of water, then made my way to get my skin changed.

I'd hated my arms because of the scars on them. It was the only thing I could focus on, especially when they caught the light.

But now, the rising sun in a goblet and a crescent moon in a drawstring bag are the first thing that people see.

As I was lying there with the artist working away, I thought:

Why would I ever want to hurt myself purposefully to create something I will always hate, when I could be in pain for a few hours to come out with something I will love for the rest of my life?

written by diggie