{"id":66395,"date":"2019-03-15T01:24:25","date_gmt":"2019-03-15T01:24:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/one.sightlinemg.com\/navytimes\/uncategorized\/2019\/03\/15\/turn-scars-into-tattoos-that-tell-a-story\/"},"modified":"2026-08-08T12:53:37","modified_gmt":"2026-08-08T12:53:37","slug":"turn-scars-into-tattoos-that-tell-a-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/one.sightlinemg.com\/navytimes\/opinion\/commentary\/2019\/03\/15\/turn-scars-into-tattoos-that-tell-a-story\/","title":{"rendered":"Turn scars into tattoos that tell a story"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I used to try hard to forget what it felt like to fear dying. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sounds of helicopters hovering above and \u201cincoming fire\u201d alarms wailing as our unit took cover. While routine, these sounds were never easy to get accustomed to no matter how many times we\u2019d reacted to them. That was life on combat deployment though. Nowhere to hide from danger. Like trying to run from an earthquake or take cover in the path of a category F5 tornado. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For those who\u2019d never experienced combat, it\u2019s like trying to explain color to someone who has never had the gift of sight. I\u2019d completed two tours of duty in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. My chosen profession was \u201ccombat nurse\u201d in a place where lives were changed forever by bullets and bombs in a matter of milliseconds. My duties entailed working 5 to 6 twelve-hour shifts while treating some of the most horrifying injuries one could imagine. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those images would play back in my head during sleepless nights as I tried to crowd them out by thinking about loved ones back home. After several months, I had become numb to my everyday routine, perhaps out of a subconscious attempt to salvage my sanity, until the day that routine was a interrupted by a mass casualty alarm indicating incoming wounded from the battlefield.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I remember unzipping my first body bag. It\u2019s impossible to analogize what charred human flesh smells like to any other odor I\u2019d ever smelled, which makes it unforgettable for me to this day. I\u2019d watch as many nurses exited the bay because it was too much to handle. Several doctors wept as they pronounced each person dead, as if it wasn\u2019t already obvious. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, it was this confluence of events, sensations, thoughts, and experiences that had begun to alter my sense of humanity, and how this experience would disrupt my baseline for what I\u2019d consider \u201cnormal\u201d after experiencing this complete sensory overload. An overload that would aggravate the wounds from my earlier experiences. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will never forget days like those because it established the moment I\u2019d never see life the same going forward. It was the moment I\u2019d \u201cfelt\u201d post traumatic stress, a diagnosis that I didn\u2019t welcome but had to accept, and how it would color my identity as a military officer, a healer, a mother, a sister, and a daughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Most people wouldn\u2019t even know or think I\u2019d served, much less served in combat. My scars were well hidden, and that suited me fine. I didn\u2019t have to tolerate questions about my service, where I\u2019d served, whether I\u2019d ever killed anyone or been shot at, and suffer the dubious looks from men who still can\u2019t fathom the notion that women serve in harm\u2019s way. Being a \u201cveteran\u201d meant I had to bear my scars, so I chose not to, which had the opposite effect of reopening my wounds even deeper, in retrospect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d eventually come to accept that the vestiges of those experiences were more like tattoos than scars, but only after admitting I needed help and seeking treatment. I\u2019d come to see my invisible injuries as evidence of my patriotism and willingness to sacrifice, not imperfections to be suppressed and hidden for fear of being judged. Tattoos, with their bold, beautiful colors and deliberate outlines, tell a story whereas scars serve no purpose other than to remind one of past trauma. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, and women like me, wearing the uniform and stepping up to do what 99 percent of today\u2019s population wouldn\u2019t should be heralded. The problem is it needs to start from the inside, with the self belief that we belong and don\u2019t have to explain why. It starts with the belief that we are veterans and don\u2019t have to prove it. It\u2019s starts with the belief that we bear tattoos, not scars, that tell our stories. <\/p>\n\n\n\t