Marks of life
Broken skin, blood and eventually recovery. Nearly all of us have scars. They are marks on skin but they also tell us many bad and good things about our lives. The Story behind a scar can be the hardest part to accept. Skin will heal itself, but mentally scars stay forever.
Some mothers think that their body has failed them. For me it was different. I was very relieved when I heard the midwife saying the word c-section.
I felt like I was in a movie. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t be scared, but I felt the pain. Around me were more and more midwives and doctors. That’s the only reason I could deduce something was wrong with me. After hours of painful delivery, the c-section took only seven minutes. My boy couldn’t breathe so they needed to get him out in a hurry.
Now my boy is two years old and everything is fine. He is a fighter and he definitely isn’t afraid of anything. I wanted to know everything about my c-section. I realized it’s not an easy way to get birth. Doctors need to get through all the skin layers, muscles and womb. Six layers in total. That means basically I have many scars, not only one. My scars are proof of all the professionality in the operating room.
I don’t feel like I’m a victim to anything. Every time I go on my board, I accept that I will definitely get hurt. It’s part of the process.
I was maybe nine years old when I started skateboarding. I admired professional skaters like Tony Hawk. They all had scars and they hurt themselves sometimes. Even as a child, I wasn’t afraid to get hurt. My mother, on the other hand, was horrified when I came home all over bruised. The only thing that scares me is if I hurt my head. I’m only angry when I get hurt because I know I may not be able to skate that day or for a while anymore. I skate when I feel bad but also when I feel good. I can forget everything and just focus on doing my tricks.
As a skateboarder I’m even proud of my scars because then I know I’ve done much work. It can be fascinating and beautiful to get used to it. To get hurt and get scars. Then I’m not that fragile when I get old.
I hated to be at home so I spent most of my days with friends playing soccer outside. Back in the days that was normal for me. I couldn’t question that.
I have lived most of my life with my parents in India. Rules at home were tight. For example my parents wanted me to come home straight after school. If I didn’t, my father would bur n my armpits or punish me in some other way. My mother didn’t punish me that much. Only when she was angry. Physical punishment at school was also very normal. The teacher slapped our fingers when we didn’t do our homework. Sometimes the teacher just came up with reasons to punish.
It took much time before I could talk about and deal with these things. It’s been ten years now and I don’t know if I ever want to move back to home. I call my father maybe twice in a year and ask how he’s doing. But nothing more.
As a circus artist I take the risk of getting hurt every day. My accident wasn’t a surprise but its severity was. I was afraid it would be the end of my career.My discipline was teeterboard jumping.
I jumped over five meters high with my partners. I was performing a couple of years ago in Germany when I fell straight to my feet. I tried to get up but I couldn’t stand. I was too worried because sometimes I get hurt at work. On my way to the hospital I realized what had happened. My left foot needed six or seven surgeries to get back together. Screws were everywhere around my foot. I was frustrated because I had to learn to walk again. I really just wanted to get back on stage.
Circus is my life so of course I want to get back to the board. And I’ll do it if I can one day. My body is my instrument. It can be very depressing if something is wrong with it. Now I’m performing with my second disciplines acrobatics and juggling. But still, it’s not the same.
People say it’s not smart to travel alone as a young woman. But after all, no one can prepare for everything.
One man harassed me sexually on my solo trip a couple of years ago. After that I was afraid to travel by myself, but I knew that I needed to face my fear. I planned my new trip to Portugal very carefully. I spent my time on a peaceful restaurant street in a small village. I complimented some lady’s beautiful dog and then that dog bit me on my leg. I was surrounded by helpful people and I could only laugh. I realized that something can happen in even the safest place.
I’m proud of myself that I made the second trip even though I was scared. I wanted to celebrate that process by getting a tattoo around my scar. I noticed that the scar was fading, and I wanted to remember it.