Scar-Covering Tattoos With Amazing Stories Behind Them

People get tattoos for various reasons. Many get them because they’re fashionable. Others get them as a reminder or something or somebody special. But some get them for the opposite reason, to cover up something they’d rather forget.

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People get tattooed for various reasons. Many get them because they’re fashionable. Others get them as a reminder or something or somebody special. But some get them for the opposite reason, to cover up something they’d rather forget.

Some had surgery scars and dog bites they wanted to hide, while others decided to get tattoos to cover injuries inflicted by abusive partners or the painful results of bets gone wrong. They’ll make you think twice the next time you see somebody with a tattoo. (h/t: 22words, buzzfeed)

#1 A Bluebird Covering Scars From Multiple Surgeries

My sophomore year of high school I fell during a trampoline routine at gymnastics practice and shattered my left arm. After eight months of surgeries… I was left with an arm that not only hurt constantly and didn’t work, but also didn’t look like my own. Surgeries to remove dead muscle and scar tissue had distorted my forearm, and the scars scattered across my arm and hand felt unsightly and ugly. This tattoo, my first, was a present to myself when I turned 18 as a way to reclaim my body after it had been irreparably damaged, and to turn my scars into something beautiful. I didn’t want to cover up the surgical scars because they were, and are, such an important part of who I am now, but I wanted to transform them into something I was proud of. The bird is an eastern bluebird.

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#2 Blooming Peony Tattoo Covering Scars From Self-Harming

My grandpa sexually abused me since I was a small child. For a long time, I felt like my body didn’t belong to me. I could feel his eyes burned into my skin, or the ghost of his hands brushing against my thighs. As retaliation, I began self-harming. I carved up my ribs, my breasts, my thighs. They were all the things he loved too much, and I wanted to destroy them. The worst of the scars were on my ribs. After recovery, my mom bought me scar cream and they faded. Even still, I felt a disconnect from my body. I started letting boys toss me around and abuse me. I saw myself as nothing but a sex object. Earlier this year, I relapsed. I was so angry and embarrassed at how weak I still was… So after some thought and saving, I went into a tattoo parlor and got a blooming peony on my sternum and ribs. I wanted to plant something beautiful where something ugly used to be. It’s still not finished, and needs coloring when I can afford it, but for now, it’s a great comfort to see in the mirror. I’m taking my body back, one flower at a time.

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