Wrists Out!

Cherese shares about her one tattoo and its “hidden” meanings.

Hey, friends, this is Cherese Lee, and you're listening to the Just Waiting for You podcast. Whether the sun is shining where you are in life today, or you're walking through a crappy storm, and you really wish you got some rain boots. The power of a story is sometimes all you need for that perspective shift. Hang out with us for a few minutes and find out what happens when you realize that someone is just waiting for you.

It's a story. It's just a story. It's about six and a half years ago, and I went away on a girl's weekend with my best friend, my sister-in-law, and my cousin. We were meeting up in Charlotte. For some kind of women are the best and the most awesomest type of conference, I'm pretty sure. And at the end of the second day, we came out feeling pretty empowered and confident.

I guess we got our money's worth as we're all piling in my sister in law's car and trying to decide what we're going to have for dinner. The conversation turns to tattoos. I don't know why. Anyway, my sister-in-law and I start talking about how both of us have always wanted the same tattoo for very different reasons, but the same tattoo, nonetheless.

Neither of us had tattoos at the time, and so feeling all empowered and confident and girl power, we decide that this is the time. Now we're in a city that we're not familiar with. We don't have an appointment anywhere, but we're also pretty picky about who's going to do these tattoos because, you know, first tattoo and permanent, you know, all the typical reasons.

So we do a quick Google search, look at the ratings, and it just so happens that the highest rated one is a cross from a Mexican place. So when we pull up, we decide probably first we should go get Mexican, a.k.a. margaritas, and really talk this through. I think you can see where this is going to end up.

We have what I recall as the most delicious margarita of my life or two and decide, Yep, yep, we're going to do it. So we go across the street, ask them if they take walk ins. Well, what do you know? They sure do. And the receptionist says, let me just see how long it'll be. Who's available. Well, over to her right is a guy who obviously worked there.

If I had to guess, I would say mid-fifties. Long jet black, curly hair, skinny black jeans with rips, some sort of rock and roll t shirt, stereotypical tattoo parlor guy eating chips and salsa from the awesome Mexican place across the street. And he says, I'll do it before I go. It sounds like it's quick.

And I said, oh, yeah, it's just two words, scrip, you know, for each of us. And he said, Okay, just give me a minute to finish eating. So me being, you know, so mature and while researching on this, I said, umm do you have some of your work I could look at? And he attempts to not spit his chips and salsa and said, I mean, yeah, I have lots of books from my work over the last 20 years.

I own the place. I mean, you just want two words, but. Okay. So I pull out the books that he offers, and Jen, my sister-in-law, and I start poring over the photos and look at each other like, Oh yeah, we're idiots. I think he can handle two words. So we each had a different script in mind for the words, and we hand them to the receptionist and go and take our seats and we're waiting.

He finishes up his snack and asks us who wants to go first. And I guess we both kind of were like, she does know. She does. And he said, are you sure you girls want to do this? Oh, yeah. Yeah, definitely. We definitely want to do this. Okay. Because, you know, tattoos are for the rest of your frickin life, right?

Spoiler. He also didn't say frickin. We all burst into laughter and say, Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know. You know, deep down, I'm thinking, Thank you, Lord, for tequila. So I sit in the seat to get my tiny two words and he says, Okay, where do you want it? And I said, oh, let me take my watch off. I want it right on the band where you see that my watch was.

And he said, okay, do you want the words facing out for people to read or in for you to read? I said, oh, in for me to read. He said, okay, do you want to put on the other hand then? I mean, if I put it right there where your watchband was, you won't be able to see it.

I tell him, Yeah, that's fine. I don't need anyone to see it. The tattoo is just for me. Okay, he says, as long as you understand. I do. I got it. I understand. I signed the waiver. We're good. Well, what happens after that is, you know, your typical tattoo story in that it lasted probably 2 to 3 minutes.

It felt like it lasted 2 to 3 hours. It was some of the most excruciating pain I've ever had in my life. And yes, halfway through, I did rethink every decision I've ever made in my life leading up to that point, including the margaritas. We finish up, pay for our tattoos and head out. And that night in the hotel, I remember waking up in the middle of the night because it was hurting so badly and thinking, what have I done?

Maybe that was just my head hurting, but not now. Pretty sure it was my wrist. So the next day we all head home to our respective cities from our girl’s weekend and I walk in with the tattoo bandage on my wrist, and pretty much it was like a record skip in my house. My husband and kids are in the kitchen when I walked in, and it was a lot of jaw drops.

What in the world? They had never heard me talk about this tattoo. I had never brought it up. It was just something that had lived deep down in my heart that I had wanted for a really, really long time. It is two simple words Be still. Now you can go online and see a million people have this tattoo.

Some would even say it was trendy at some point in time. But for me it was super personal, and I needed the tattoo for two reasons. Number one, to remind me to plain and simple, be still. I don't idol well, I have pretty significant ADHD and I need the reminder sometimes to just stop. Slow down. Just be. I'm sure there's been a lot of moments in life that I've completely missed out on because of my lack of being still.

So that was reason number one. Reason number two was because sometimes I tend to forget that I'm not in charge here. And so my tattoo was to be a reminder to be still and know that I am God, not you Cherese, me. Stop trying to be wanting to be limiting when you are not just be still.

So the tattoo heals up. I'm starting to come to terms with my decision. And as the days go on, I'm more and more excited that I've done it. As soon as it's healed, the watch goes back over it and it does fit perfectly under where my watchband naturally sits to the point that most people had even forgotten that I had a tattoo, which is fine.

So fast forward a couple of months. Our world was pretty well rocked when on a January morning, just after New Year's, my husband very randomly starts coughing up blood in the shower. The next couple of weeks consist of a lot of testing and doctor's appointments to find out that Brandon had a tumor in his lung because of the type of tumor that it was on biopsy and because of where in his lung it was, we found ourselves at Duke Cancer Center for a consultation.

So we go in and there's the kindest woman working there. I think that's a prerequisite for oncology centers. Surely it must be. And she so sweetly informed us that the surgeon we were waiting to see had a minimum of 90-minute wait that we can anticipate. And she directed us over to this really lovely waiting room full of tables and chairs in this all-glass room.

I remember it was early in the morning and that light was coming through the glass and it really was beautiful and warm and the happiest you could make a room like this. So we go and find a table. And at first, I think someone must be sitting at this table because there's something on it. As we get closer, I see it's a million puzzle pieces.

And then I scan the room and realize every table has a different puzzle on it. This, by the way, side note, is genius. Genius. Talk about taking your mind off of a how long your wait is and B where you are and why you're there at a cancer center. Is put us on a task like a thousand-piece puzzle.

Now at the time I hadn't worked a puzzle. I couldn't tell you when. Probably not since the giant puzzles when my girls were babies. But Brandon is the resident puzzle guy at our house, and he gets pretty excited, starts working that puzzle. Once the paperwork is done and we're just sitting there pretty much quietly, HGTV is playing in the background and we're working on this puzzle and Brandon says to me, how come your watch always covers your tattoo?

I remember thinking, What? What? We hadn't talked about my tattoo in the two months since I got it.

And I said, because I don't know. It's it's just for me, it doesn't need to be where anyone else can see it. And, you know, I have a lot of meetings and things, and sometimes I'm doing work that I just want to be really professional for. And so I just thought it would be best to put it in a place that it would be easily covered up, but that I could slide my watch up when I needed to see it.

And he never looked up. Still working the puzzle piece by piece, trying to find its place and without ever looking at me or my wrist, he says, did you ever think that maybe I need to see it too?

And without saying a word, I am buckled my watch, take it off and put it on the other arm. And we both continued the puzzle. It hadn't ever occurred to me that someone else might need to see that tattoo. I didn't get it for anyone else. It was a really personal thing. I got it because there were a couple of things in life that challenged me daily.

And no matter how many times I had learned the lessons about those two things, they still tripped me up all the time. And I thought, man, I'm just going to permanently put this on my body to always remember to be still, sit tight, enjoy the moment, and wash my hands a bit of some control that deep down I don't actually want.

And I got the tattoo for the right reasons. I did. No question. That's absolutely not my point here. It's just that I was so focused on how those two challenges affected me. I never thought about what sharing them could do for someone else. Now, there's a fine line here. We all know it. We've all seen it on the Facebooks.

Sometimes the Instagram, people airing everything about their day or their life or their woes. But there's also a close circle of people who you love, who you trust, and who sometimes need to see it, too. I know in my life I have greatly benefited from the people in my circle, sharing their struggles with me, just knowing I'm not alone or hearing something that worked for them or just walking the path alongside me. And I think sometimes I forget that I can do that for them, too.

So I would ask you a question. What is it right now that is your daily challenge or that you're fighting through that you are holding so tightly because you think it's just yours? It's not for anyone else. You'll figure this out eventually that maybe someone else needs to see too, because maybe they not only need the reminder, but what you would learn and gather from sharing that with them is just as impactful.

I truly believe that we were made for community when we show up as our whole selves’ wrists out. It doesn't make the road less bumpy, but it makes it less lonely. And in a lot of ways it's kind of the same thing. Yes, my watch still covers my tattoo most days because I can't change where it is now.

I did tell a friend that my only two New Year's resolutions were for more muscles and more tattoos. It's mid-February, friends, and I am nowhere closer to either of those. In retrospect, clearly, I forgot how much pain is involved in obtaining either one. I digress. I'll keep showing up. I'll move the watch when you need it. And you do it for me too, okay?

Thanks for joining us. I hope you'll allow yourself to feel the things today and then have the courage to ask. But what if I look like this? Go forth and show up for life, my friends. Someone is just waiting for you.