I Am…

A daughter. One that use to scream at the top of her lungs until her voice cracked, and took for granted the unconditional love and support from her parents. Who came back and exhibited respect and begged for forgiveness for all of her mistakes. A daughter who now wants to take care of her family financially, emotionally, and mentally.

A fighter. One who was enjoying the sunshine on her skin as she rode on the back of her fathers’ plum colored Harley Davidson Road King. Who instead twirling batons at practice, collided with metal, slammed into hard dirt, and found herself unable to remember anything while lying in a crisp hospital bed. A fighter who was only given two percent chance of living after having brain surgery at the young age of eleven.

A survivor. One who suffered vicious domestic abuse for five years. Who received deep internal bruises which turned black and blue after minutes. Social isolation from most of the outside world including her own family. Ridicule from friends, family and strangers about how oblivious she was to the abuse. As well as emotional scarring from believing she was insignificant and didn’t deserve better. A survivor who finally said enough is enough and escaped so she could create a healthier life.

Courageous. Someone who learned to grow and take care of herself first. Who established restrictions and guidelines for her life to ensure her safety came first. Courageous enough to use her voice when she didn’t want something or someone to negatively influence her life.

Determined. Someone who strives to become the next Kat Von D. Who wants to prove her skills as a woman in a man’s world. Determined to hear the mystery behind the art and become a part of each individual story that comes through her studio.

I am Micki.