To Write Love On My Own Arms

In 2006, Jamie Tworkowski wrote an essay about a girl named Renee, a 19-year-old addict and self-mutilator who spent five days with him and his friends coming down before she could enter rehab.

He and his friends prayed with her, took care of her, helped her. They looked on in sadness at the words "Fuck-Up" that she had carved on her arms with a razor.

The title of the essay was "To Write Love On Her Arms," and since then, Renee has come out of rehab and continues to recover. Tworkowski started the non-profit To Write Love On Her Arms, and has worked to make the conversation about depression, suicide, self-mutilation and addiction one that is not so shameful.

The mission of TWLOHA is not to replace existing agencies that help people, but rather to raise money for them, and to help people find the help they desperately need.

I first heard about this organization through Facebook in the fall, when there was an international "To Write Love On Her Arm Day" event. I participated, even though I thought it was just a little meme.

When I saw another one for tomorrow, February 12th, I decided to do some research. And tomorrow, I will proudly walk around with LOVE on my arm. Not just in support of an awesome cause, but because in recent weeks I've been allowing someone else's opinions--based not on fact but on prejudice and all things bad--to cloud my own vision of myself. Because I have been in that dark place called depression, and I have friends who have been even deeper.

I will write LOVE on my arm, because my hope is that my friends continue to find reasons to write LOVE on their own arms. Never words like "fuck-up," "loser," or "unworthy."

You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.

From TWLOHA Vision.