30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 7 (What Tattoos You Have and If They Have Meaning)

Day 7: What tattoos you have and if they have meaning

I don't have any tattoos. Although there have been at least a few occasions in my life when I have considered getting one. Ultimately though, I have always decided against it for some reason or another.

First, about three years ago, I wanted to get the quote "no day but today" from RENT tattooed somewhere around my ankle. I thought it was a good reminder of the fragility of life and more poetic than #YOLO. Plus, I love RENT and I just really thought a nice cursive ink anklet would be a constant reminder to myself that tomorrow is never promised. I decided against it because I was 18 and very afraid of the pain. I remember my mother poking me in the ankle several times in a row with her fingernail to simulate a fraction of the pain, and I chickened out.

Then, when I was in France, during my last week there when the sad realization began to wash over me that I would soon be leaving, I decided on a whim that I should get myself some ink to commemorate the experience. I considered a few different options, and I consulted Pinterest appropriately. I decided I wanted to get "libérer" because it seemed fitting for everything about that time of my life. "Libérer" is French for "to free" or "to liberate". Again, I wanted a simple, cursive script. But this time, I was conflicted about where exactly on my body it should be located. My ankle or my thigh bone were the two top contenders. I remember discussing the impromptu decision with my host parents beforehand, and my host dad jokingly rolled his eyes and said to me, "What, you want a tattoo that says, 'I was in France'?" He was right. I felt compelled to get a tattoo while I was there, because I was there. Then I saw the busy boutiques de tatouage late one night while walking the streets, and I decided I was too scared. I let my monkey mind talk me out of it because 1) it was a bit of a rash decision and 2) I didn't know the regulations for tattoo parlors in France. Plus, what if they didn't understand me if I said stop? (Which was a dumb excuse, because I could've just as easily said arrêtes.) I left the country ink-free.

Then, just a few weeks ago, I briefly considered getting a tattoo on my shoulder blade of something my mother wrote to me in a note. I was reading said note, and at the end she signed it, "Follow your dreams Sweetpea. Love you muches, Mom". It was very late, I was very sleepy, and I thought, "it is very important for me to get this phrase in my mother's exact handwriting tattooed on my body." (One of my good friends has a tattoo of her mother's handwriting on her shoulder blade, so you see, I wasn't being very original here.) Then I flashed forward about 50 years and thought about my 70-year-old skin sagging and my mother being long gone, and me still having this whimsical little ink stain between my liver spots, as a tangible reminder of my mother's love. I thought, that's absurd. Harry Potter was alive because of his mother's love, just as I am. And he didn't have a tattoo.

So, I guess, my reasoning for not getting a tattoo has always been two-fold: first, I have a shamefully low pain threshold; and second, I can't think of anything so important and central to my life's story that I want to pay someone money to give me an open wound which will one day fade. Although, I'm not dismissing the notion entirely. If, someday, I can think of something so perfect that I want to keep it on my body as a physical reminder forever, then I feel totally free to make that decision. But until then, I think I'll just get my meaningful phrases framed and hang them up in my home.

I don't feel any regret about these experiences, though; and if anything, I think they have taught me more about myself and my relationship with commitment. I remember a family member once telling me, "if you're not 100%, don't do it." She was referring to shopping for clothes in Target, but I think the advice is just as applicable here.

And by the way, it doesn't escape my attention that it was words I wanted to get tattooed on my body each and every time; almost as if they're the only thing I view as meaningful enough to leave a physically lasting impression on me, in addition to everything else they already do.