I got my second tattoo yesterday.

The first one was two years ago, for my 30th birthday. I needed to mark myself to commemorate everything I had been through in the first three decades of my life.

Once I had the urge to do it, I knew right away what the tattoo would be – a treble clef on my right ankle. That symbol is very meaningful to me, because throughout the difficult and hellish times in my life, I’ve always used music to calm me down and lift me up. I remember crying myself to sleep every night after my father died and then singing to stop the tears.

From that point onward, singing became one of my coping mechanisms. There’s something very cathartic about taking deep breaths with your diaphragm and pushing your emotions out of your body, filling a room with the sound of your soul. I needed to put that symbol on my body to remind myself that I had made it through some very dark times, in the hopes that it would inspire strength in future dark times.

When I got the tattoo, I swore that it would be the only one. I had no urge for more and no other symbols meant as much to me. But these last few months, that stance has changed. After two difficult years characterized by anxiety and depression, I felt a very strong need to mark myself again. And I knew exactly what I was going to get.

It’s an alto clef on my lower back. Most people have never seen one, unless they’ve taken musical theory or play the viola, as those are the only places it is used. However, way way back, it was used in choral music, placed higher or lower on the staff for the different vocal ranges.

I’m a mezzo soprano, so my vocal range is in between soprano and alto. I like the fact that the two symbols tattooed on my body – a treble clef and an alto clef – represent me. I’m neither one nor the other. I am the harmony between the two.

I also like the shape of it and the fact that people interpret it in different ways. If you look at it one way, it looks like a stylized letter B (Bella, perhaps?) If you look at it another way, it’s the number 13 (a lucky number for some). But it means a lot more than that to me.

My last tattoo was about the past. This one is about what I want for myself now. Balance and harmony in body, mind and spirit.

I’m not there yet. My life is so far from balanced right now, and I’m finally realizing that it always has been. Chemical imbalances, hormone imbalances, imbalances in work, activities, relationships. Everything feels so off-kilter right now that the slightest shift might send it all flying. Originally, I wanted to wait until I got my shit together before getting this tattoo, so that it would be a reward for my triumph over imbalance. Another milestone etched into my skin.

But then I had a different thought. What if I didn’t wait? What if I just did it now? If I put this symbol on the core of my body, the place where we get our physical balance, then maybe, just maybe, all those other kinds of balance will follow.

I hope so.