I have desperately wanted to go get some tattoos for a long time now. I am constantly getting asked why I want a tattoo so badly. There are several reasons, honestly. Firstly, I find tattoos beautiful. I’m not talking about the little hipster triangles, tramp stamps, and ‘YOLO’ script I’ve been seeing on so many people from my generation recently. I mean real tattoos, the ones that someone put more than five seconds of thought into. The tattoos that have a story, and personal meaning behind them; size doesn’t matter when it comes to these tattoos. Personally, I want several small tattoos with big meanings.
This life is not permanent. Everything fades. We’re only on this earth for a short period of time. I love the idea of something that is permanent; something that will be with me for as long as there is flesh upon my bones. I want a little marker of where I am in life; a timeline of my story in symbols upon my body. I want to be able to glance down, or look in a mirror and remember what compelled me to get something permanently under my skin. Tattoos are both tangible and intangible. Sure, flesh can be touched and broken, but
the memory and message behind each tattoo is hidden until the wearer wishes to make it known.
As a private person, the idea of having little pieces of me exposed to the world in the form of tattoos feels liberating. I want tattoos that will make people wonder, and attempt to figure out the story behind them. I just want to express myself in a new medium, my skin; something I’ve not always been comfortable in, but I’m growing to love it. Maybe I’ve not been comfortable in my skin because I haven’t made it my own. We don’t buy houses and then leave them in the condition the previous owner did. We renovate things, and make our own havens. I want to renovate my body, hang art on the walls, and be who I choose to be; who I was born to be.
Lindsey. Twenty-Five. Currently pursuing a degree in Professional Writing & Film Studies.