I have seven tattoos, and most likely, an impulse control problem. I know there are a lot of people who believe their body is a temple and consider any alteration equals desecration. I don’t really think too much about 1) what other people think or 2) what my body is, or to whom. Even if it was a temple, who doesn’t want to decorate?
Each permanent, premeditated marking on my skin is of a name, a picture or a symbol that means something to me. Yes, even my first tattoo… which I got because I was 18 and I could. It commemorates an event, a time period or a loved one. They serve as a reminder that I am not alone. Even when I feel so very desperately lost and I don’t think things will ever get any better, I know that I will make it through because of all of the things that made me who I am today… all of that is still inside me. All of the people and experiences, I carry with me. The tattoos are on the outside, simply to remind me of what is on the inside.
On my left wrist is my daughter’s name. Below that is a feather, a quill that evolves into birds taking flight and they get close my wrist, almost wrapping around but not quite. On the top of my wrist is a single bird, to signify my grandma on the other side. It is not perfect. When it was healing, it was so itchy and I scratched it. It started to peel and I pulled a part of the ink out. It’s been several years now and I can still see where the ink is missing. Coincidentally, (or not) there appears to be a hole where the heart should be.
Today I went to Saint Sabrina’s in Uptown to talk about my next tattoo. I am going to have my son’s name, written in my daughter’s handwriting with a pair of footprints underneath, on my right wrist.
I want to do this to remind me on the one end, I need to keep my feet planted. Stay rooted and strong… especially when the unexpected happens. And on the other end, are the wings of the birds with Tayla’s name, to remind me of my potential and constant urge to reach for the sky.
I can already see my new meditation pose with my hands clasped together, joining the two for balance and harmony.
What about you? Do you have tattoos? Do you want tattoos? What do/would they represent for you? Let me know in the comments below!
*Trivia ~ my first tattoo is of an angel, sleeping on her crossed arms, a violin clutched in her hand. EVERYONE thought she was a mosquito, and being from MN where it’s the unofficial state bird… Let’s just say I couldn’t blame them. After taking the bandage off and waking up the next morning, I saw it out of the corner of my eye and started to slap the crap outta myself! Would I have this done again? No, probably not… but on my list of regrets? It doesn’t make the top 100.
Ps. Holy shit. I just took a picture of my angel, for this post… she’s looking pretty rough! Ah, well, she was a rite of passage. She been through a lot with me- and it’s starting to show!
*Ignore the leg hairs. 😀