So yeah, I’ve mentioned my penchant for ink (tattoos for the uninitiated) and recently I’ve been feeling the urge again. Funny that I’ve actually waited so long, especially since the reason was one I don’t ever consider…
I got my first tattoo at 18, my father shook his head, my mother shook her fist and tried to rub it off, and funnily enough it gained me a nickname later in life. ** years later (sshhh lol) I’ve got quite the collection.
I actually contemplated ending my journey as I currently am. The irony, I was avoiding a situation where I would face disapproval. Like that has ever been a concern before lol… but for some reason, someone else’s approval actually mattered. I would have probably been more likely to have felt this way as a teenager, but life has a funny way of throwing curve balls at you. Go figure *shrug*, but having now taken all things into consideration, I’ve reminded myself why I started this journey in the first place. I consider the effect my actions have on those closest to me – I suppose that was part of my hesitation. I’ve recently had a good reminder that not everyone considers consequences. I have considered mine, and after all… it is my life to live and this is my journey.
No, they don’t make me a social deviant.
No, they don’t make me irresponsible.
No, they don’t make me a bad parent.
They are simply my story, in colour, in pictures, in indelible scars that I will carry with me for my time in this life.
While my blog is really writing therapy, my ink is my story. Milestones, memories, experiences, reminders – they have a constant, permanent presence in my skin. Some mean more than others, and this one is an experience worthy of documentation. I suppose the only downside to the readily visible ones are that everyone has an opinion. Some pleasant, others quite the opposite, but I’m proud to say over the years I’ve learned some tact and have stopped replying with “you and I don’t sleep together at night, so why does it bother you so much?”. That one might need to make a guest appearance one day, but I’ve learned to behave myself and be polite. To those who appreciate the why, thank you… to those who can’t get past “oh my God why would you do that to yourself?!?”, I’m sorry… I’m not bothered by the fact that you don’t have any and I don’t judge you for it 😉
While the actual artwork is a work in progress at the moment, I will say that now is the time for me to invest in long sleeves for work. My office doesn’t have much to say, they’ve all basically gotten used to me, but I figure in the interest of some of my clients it may be appropriate.
Maybe I’ll post a pic when it’s in progress/done.
So in the not too distant future, if you see a woman around town with an arm worth of artwork and a beautiful little boy, say Hi… we don’t bite.