Two weeks ago, Julian and I were having a conversation about tattoos, and he was telling me about how he decided on a tattoo he will likely get in the future. The story behind it is as follows: he was waiting to enter the area where he was to take his black belt test for Aikido. He said that he entered the ring with no fear in his heart, no nervous energy. It was because he had prepared to his best ability, and he had no doubt in his heart that he would succeed. The tattoo, he said, would reflect this experience. He plans to get the following tattooed across his heart: "Ready."

I reflected on that for a bit. While I would consider myself a mostly confident person, I have always struggled with nerves. Looking back on my history, I believe it is because I have always had people in my life who told me, through word and deed, that I was not good enough. I imprinted upon it-- my parents, who grounded me for anything less than all As and one B on a report card. My guidance counselor who told me not to even bother trying out for School for the Arts, because I wouldn't make it. Pastors who told me my honest questions would lead me to hell. A (now thankfully ex) boyfriend who set up an impossible 25-count ideal that he didn't even come close to meeting himself; who told me I wasn't his equal. I have always doubted myself, because though I can have all the praise in the world heaped on me by my friends, the people closest to me have always given me the opposite message. That I wasn't good enough, that I wasn't enough, period. Sure, it's just a projection of their own insecurities, but when your heart is engaged, it can be so hard to separate projection from truth. Most of the time, I'm steady on my feet. Ready to take risks and experience the world. But there are times when I am anything but-- scared to perform, brought down by debilitating stage fright, terrified to put myself out there, frightened to advocate for my own heart and my own truths. Despite proving them wrong time and time again, the naysayers' voices run on loop in my head. This is my challenge to overcome.

I find the concept of readiness to be incredibly inspirational-- a milestone on the path I'm walking. I desire true self-assurance that does not limit my ability to be open and sharing. Self-assurance that's not a front for other issues that I don't want to deal with because they're inconvenient and ugly and truly taking responsibility would be hard. Self-assurance that does not require me to believe that I am better than anyone else. Self-assurance that tells me unequivocally that no matter what life throws at me, I am ready.

As a side note, this weekend, I got to look at all the wonderful things that Jen at Parrish Relics makes, but I couldn't find anything quite right. The closest I came was a crowned red heart, and inside the heart read "Enchanted." I thought about it for awhile, and at the ball, I told her that I think I'd like a heart that read "Hope." "Open?" she asked, having misheard me over the roar of the crowd and rising music. And I thought about it for a moment. Yes. Open. So much better. The perfect thing to have written over my heart.

Open.