Photo one: the view from straight on.
Photo two: angled to see the little bird friends.
Photos three and four: the 'before'.
In February of this year, I got to celebrate two years of being free from SH. In honor of that milestone, I decided that this is the year I get my scars covered, because they were finally old enough (scars take a long time to heal, y'all). I got two pieces on my left arm over the course of the year, and this guy on the right arm today. With this one done, my scars are officially covered. Aside from the red ones up top (they're the newest, but they'll mellow out with age, much like myself) they're hidden fantastically. If you wanted to get really close and examine it thoroughly, I'm sure you could spot some of them. If you're analyzing my arm that closely looking for evidence, then grab some sunglasses to put on dramatically while delivering a quippy one-liner, because you, my friend, are conducting a murder investigation. I'll see myself out.
In all seriousness, I went into this knowing that this is a tattoo, not a 4th-level cleric spell. It was never going to make the scars totally disappear, no matter how well it was executed. What's important is that I love it to bits, I think my artist did a fantastic job, and when I look in the mirror, I don't just see my scars anymore. I see a sickass crow on my left and a sickass tree on my right. Even if the scars aren't hidden, they're still covered, and that's more than good enough for me. People aren't going to look at me and immediately see them. They'll see a sick tattoo, there's a slight chance they'll say "I like your tattoo" depending on the context of the situation, and go on with their lives none the wiser.
Every time I looked at myself, I saw these reminders of my lowest times, and it always took me back there. To that time. Doing those thing. Every time I saw my skin, I got a fresh hit of depression and addiction. But I got home from this appointment and I went immediately to a mirror. I looked at my crow, and my flowers, and now my tree, and I just felt at peace. Not just at peace, but actually a little proud. I didn't see someone who fucked up, who let themself down, who was weak. I saw someone who'd gotten better; someone who fought and won and turned the reminders of their troubles into reminders of their strength.
Sara, I don't know if you use Reddit, but if you see this, just know that you've given me a gift that can never be repaid. That, and the fact you've put five tattoos on me so far and they've all been bangers.