Liberation

So here is my shameful secret - I have a cross tattoo on my back. A pretty big one. A purple one.

"Jesus bled for me, I can bleed for Him," I told myself ten years ago as I braved the needle next to my boyfriend, who got a cross tattooed on his upper arm. We had both wanted them for several years, since before we knew each other, so shortly after I turned 19 we decided to make the road trip to North Carolina to get our first tattoos together. Tattoos were illegal in South Carolina at that time, which made them all the more alluring to rebellious teens.

I have been self-conscious of it for many years, ever since it stopped matching my spiritual identity sometime around age 21. That's right - I had it for all of two years before I started regretting it. Ah, the passions of youth.

Since tattoo removal costs about $500 per session and requires six to ten sessions, and cover-ups for a big, dark tattoo will probably look like crap, I have just tried to accept it as part of my journey, part of who I was that led me to who I am. But it still embarrasses me and I try to keep it covered whenever possible.

In class once, the conversation turned to tattoos and there was much laughter and light discussion. I threw out there, "What if it's a tattoo of a cross?" and the teacher immediately responded, "Uh, I would definitely get that removed or covered before conversion." I felt a flutter of panic inside. Because the conversation wasn't very intense and people were joking around, I wasn't sure if she realized I meant that I have one, or if she thought I was just throwing it out there as an ironic and even humorous possibility. But I was now panicked and devastated all at once. What to do??

I knew I had to talk to my rabbi about it, but I was just so mortified. In our next meeting, when she asked as always what we had discussed in class, I mentioned the tattoo conversation. I mentioned it for my own sake, hoping to find the courage to make the segue, but I just couldn't. I was so afraid of how she might judge me. She is not at all a judgmental person; she is one of the most open and warm-hearted people I have ever met in my life. But it was about my insecurities, not about her.

I fretted about it some more, and then dropped it for a while. Then in our last meeting, she said my homework was to think of anything else I want to learn or any unresolved issues I want to discuss before finalizing my conversion. I had nothing on my mind at the moment, but as soon as we got in the car, it hit me. I said, "My tattoo. This is the open invitation to discuss it. I have to." I was anxious but also relieved that there was such an opportunity. I didn't have to find a way to slip it in somewhere. She was basically asking me, "Is there anything holding you back? Let's discuss it."

So that has been the plan. To talk about it when I next saw her. Then at the oneg last night, Nicole and I were chatting with our new friend C, one of the two single women that attend services regularly with whom we have begun to build a warm rapport. C is very funny and was making jokes about the mikvah after a temple member had come over to ask about my conversion date. She said she had never been to one and didn't think she could do it, didn't think she could have someone watch her immerse naked. I said, "Well Rabbi said no one has to watch, that with Reform conversions, it's okay for her to just stand outside the door  with it ajar so she hears the splash and hears the blessing." C said, "I know several people who have gone to the mikvah, and I'm pretty sure an attendant has to be there." I said, "Crap, I'm totally going to get kicked out of the mikvah when she sees my cross tattoo!" C started laughing hysterically, which was contagious, and when we finally caught our breath, she kept asking if I was serious and asked to see it.

She then said pretty much what my teacher had, that I should get it covered or removed. I told her the obstacles, and she said she thinks I could do something like a tree that would look nice. She suggested I get a consultation and then really take time to think about the designs and she would be happy to advise. She also offered to use a design to cover it with henna. That didn't seem kosher to me either, though, because henna is temporary and thus a barrier between my body and the water. (You're not supposed to have nail polish on, contacts in, etc.) But if I had to have it covered with another permanent tattoo, then we'd have to put off my conversion because I wouldn't be able to get a tattoo and have it heal in the next three weeks.

Then one of us - I don't remember who - suggested that I call the mikvahs first just to ask their policy. This idea calmed me because it let the rest of it be a bridge I could cross later if needed. I thought if I could get an answer on that in the next few days, I could decide how to move forward. I felt the pressure of knowing my rabbi was calling around trying to make April 19 work, and that I might have to say "never mind, how about June?" when it could have been avoided if I'd just had the courage to talk to her about it sooner.

This morning I went to Torah study (my third one, and I love it!) and realized pretty quickly that I just had to talk to her today. I knew I wouldn't have a lot of time with her because it wasn't scheduled and she probably had a busy day, but I knew I had to pull her aside just for five minutes or so to talk about this. It wasn't ideal because I had been saving this for our next meeting, knowing my feelings about it could lead to a lengthy conversation, but now that it could impact my conversion date and was weighing so heavily on me, I had to bring it up. I figured I could just ask about the attendant for now, and still save the heavy tattoo conversation for later. But I guess that would only have worked if she'd said, "Nope, definitely no one will be in there." Otherwise I would still have to address it now before she kept calling around to set a date.

So after the group started dispersing, and after the last two women who were engaging Rabbi in conversation finally left, I said, "There won't be an attendant in the room with me when I actually immerse, right? C said she thinks there has to be, and that made me nervous. I just need time to adjust to that idea if that's the case." Rabbi said, "It depends where we go. We are usually permitted to do our own thing so usually I just stand outside the door. But if we go somewhere that requires that, it will be someone of the same gender, so it's okay." OHGOD. So I said, "Okay, well it's not really about modesty..." And I told her everything.

Her face did not change. She did not raise an eyebrow. She did not frown. She didn't so much as blink. She just listened, told me it was okay, and then hugged me tight when I burst into tears of relief. She said that I could do what I felt comfortable with whenever I felt like I needed to, for myself, and that it had nothing to do with my conversion and was certainly not a barrier. She said it's my body and not to cover it up with henna because the ritual is about purifying. She said that she couldn't believe I'd been holding this in all this time, letting it weigh on me. I told her I didn't want to be disrespectful, or for the mikvah people to say, "See? This is why we shouldn't allow Reforms to use our mikvah." I didn't want to embarrass or bring shame. Rabbi smiled and said that if someone has to be in the room with me, it can be her. She hugged me and said, "Be liberated."

And oh I am. How sweet during the holiday of Passover, when we talk about how it is not just an opportunity to tell the story of freedom from over two thousand years ago, but also a time to reflect on where we are still enslaved - mentally, emotionally. And here I had no insight into how I was letting this patch of ink wreak havoc on my psyche. I was overwhelmed by Rabbi's unconditional love and acceptance. After crying most of the way home, and then again as I related the story to Nicole, I began to just feel so relieved and loved and all the more eager to come home to my community.