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Hey it’s Becky, born in Oakland California, raised in Spokane Washington. My parents were hippies in the 70’s and split in the 80’s. Dad came though when mom gave up. I love my mom and don’t ever doubt she loved me; I came to a better understanding that drugs had a tighter grip on her life then I could have on her heart. She couldn’t have set a better example of what I didn’t want my life to be like. Thankfully for my guardian angel (Dad) I was able to have a strong, loving foundation and proper structure for my journey of life. Not saying I didn’t make mistakes in life because boy did I.
I got my first tattoo when I was 18 and was one of the stupidest things I had done. I asked my dad if I could get one when I went to visit a friend in Alabama. He said “no” and I said “what if I do it anyways” he said “don’t come home”. Two years later he found my lower back had a tattoo. Five years later I covered it with something bigger and better. Turns out I wasn’t a huge fan of tribal with a ghetto flower in the middle. Quick decisions are a bitch sometimes.
My owl on my arm is in memory of my mom. Owls were something my mom collected as long as I can remember. She was native so with the owl my artist correlated native beads and feathers on her. My mom was a beautiful women and I’m so humble to have such a beautiful piece of art on my arm to represent her.
I love that I get to express myself in my tattoos and the coloring of my hair and can still maintain a level respect in the business world as I am a regional manager for 2 retail stores and also work for an electrical company.
I do have more tattoos that are meaningless, but just beautiful.