I dreamed I was getting a tattoo.

That alone is strange, I don't have tattoos and I've never planned to get one. But in the dream, I wasn't nervous. I wasn't impulsive. I was calm. Certain.

I was with my childhood friend Megan, the one who knew me since elementary school before life complicated things, before I had to explain myself, before I learned to carry weight I never planned for or envisioned for myself. She lives states away now with 2 kids under 2, but in the dream, we were together. Close. Easy.

The tattoo artist was Kat Von D, someone known for permanence, precision, and intention when it comes to tattoos. Someone who represents mastery and interestingly, has had her own very public journey of faith and transformation from what I’ve briefly gathered through internet searches.

And the tattoo itself? Small. Thin. Lowercase cursive on my left wrist.

One word: grace.

Not capitalized. Not bold. Not demanding attention.

Just quietly, permanently there.

I woke up knowing this couldn't have been solely about a tattoo. It was about identity. About a permanent shift happening inside me that my subconscious was ready to mark as real.

Let me walk you through what I think each piece meant with the help of AI analysis of course (if you’re not analyzing your dream with the help of AI what are you doing…? lol):

Megan represents who I was before life got complicated: innocence, safety, belonging, a version of me that felt known without trying. The fact that she lives states away now isn't just geography. It's distance from that simpler self.

My brain was saying: "I want to reconnect with something that felt grounding and real."

In the dream, I wasn't alone making this decision. I was with someone who knew me when I was still figuring out who I'd become. There's something special about that.

Tattoos in dreams symbolize a permanent identity shift. Since I don't have tattoos in real life, this wasn't about rebellion or aesthetics, it was about claiming something publicly and permanently.

I wasn't experimenting. I was deciding.

This wasn't a phase. It was a declaration: This is who I am now.

This is the core message.

Grace means:

Given my season of life: motherhood, faith, loss, rebuilding, leadership, my subconscious was anchoring me in grace over striving.

And the details matter:

This wasn't branding. It was a reminder.

She symbolizes mastery, and permission in the tattoo industry (from what I know). My mind chose someone famous because this wasn't a casual choice, it was validated, intentional, sacred.

Almost like saying: "This decision about who I am now is legitimate for people to know."

And here's what struck me: Kat Von D herself has had a very public faith transformation. My subconscious was weaving together themes of redemption, surrender, and identity rebirth.

In my dream Megan and I ended up hanging out with Kat Von D all day, as if we all become best buds. We weren't rushed. I was comfortable. At ease.

This suggests integration. I'm not anxious about this new identity. I'm ready to live inside it, not just declare it.

The wrist felt important - not random.

It's where I go multiple times a day to grab a hair tie. Where I check my pulse. Where direction meets movement.

But specifically, my left wrist. My left hand is dominant—I've always been left-handed for writing, playing sports, dancing, eating. My left hand is where I wear my cross ring on my middle finger, the ring that symbolizes Christ at the center of my life. The center left finger connects to my heart. My pulse. The rhythm that keeps me alive.

The left wrist only makes sense. A place I'd see constantly - not for others, but for myself.

Maybe that's what grace is meant to be. Not a performance. Not a label. But a reminder I carry with me, woven into the very pulse of my existence.

This dream wasn't about a tattoo.

It was about:

- Choosing grace as my defining mark.
- Making peace with my past self.
- Stepping into a softer, truer version of me.

Grace is the thing I've had to learn the hard way - through unexpected motherhood, loss, rebuilding, co-parenting, and learning to lead not from striving but from surrender. Grace for the choices I didn't see coming. Grace for the version of me that didn't know better. Grace for the woman I'm still becoming, still getting to know.

And maybe the dream was my subconscious saying: "You've already decided. You just haven't fully claimed it yet."

Because that's the thing about transformation, sometimes your heart knows before your mind catches up. Sometimes the shift happens so gradually, so quietly, that you don't realize you've already become someone new until a dream shows you what's already written on your heart.

I don't know if I'll ever get the tattoo. Although now i’m tempted, who can help me get in touch with Kat Von D? (lol)

But I do know this: I want to live like grace is already written on me.

Like it's not something I have to earn or prove or perform. Like it's already there - permanent, personal, pulsing with every beat of my heart.

We don't have to strive our way into worthiness.
Rebuilding doesn't require perfection.
God's grace isn't loud, but it is lasting.

And maybe that's the point - not to mark my skin, but to mark my life. To move through the world as someone who has been marked by grace and now extends it freely. To myself. To my son. To the people around me who are also carrying more than anyone can see.

Grace for the life I didn't expect.
Grace for the parts of me that survived seasons I never planned.
Grace for who I'm becoming, one quiet, permanent choice at a time.

What word would be written on your wrist if your subconscious got to choose?

In this New Year what are you rebuilding?

With grace,
Kenzie