Believe it or not, I’ve wanted tattoos long before I was legally allowed to have them. And I impatiently waited until my eighteenth birthday to go ahead and get one.
I couldn’t tell you what I originally wanted when I was a teenager. (It was probably some random quote that meant something to me back then.) What I could tell you was how I knew I wanted a yin yang at some point, and that heart that was made up from a treble and bass clef.
I’m not very original, sometimes.
My mom paid for my first tattoo. It was on the day of my eighteenth birthday, and my cousin, Rebecca, came with us. Since Nan’s passing two months before, I knew I wanted to get something that had connected with her. I’ve mentioned it multiple times before, but she was really into her Irish heritage. And since she gave me my first Claddagh, I decided to get one tattooed.
The thing with the Claddagh is that you’re not supposed to buy one for yourself—it’s considered bad luck. (The Irish and their luck, am I right?)
I remember seeing this specific Claddagh on the internet—either Tumblr or Google, I’m not sure—and instantly falling in love with it. I kept that picture in my phone for months, and when it was time to finally choose (because I was stuck between that and something else), I went for the tattoo that would have meant something to Nan.
As you can see, it even says, “Nanny” under the heart; that was added last minute to the design. I hadn’t even thought about it until Tara, the artist, asked if I wanted to do put her name, or what I called her, with the design. Which I clearly did. I kind of wish I had it in her handwriting instead of my own.
My second tattoo was one that I fought for on multiple occasions. Since I was planning on its location being on my wrist, I had plenty of adults ask, “what if future employers don’t want to hire you because of a visible tattoo?”
I didn’t care.
I personally don’t think that an applicant should be judged on physical appearance; god forbid they have permanent writing on them!
I also feel like most companies don’t care all that much about tattoos, anyway. Maybe they used to, but at least where I’ve worked, I’ve either received compliments or no feedback at all.
So, after much thinking, and even more criticism, I went ahead, and got the word Believe on my wrist, in the very notable Disney font.
If you can see it in the picture, there’s also supposed to be two purple stars on the right of the word, but if I’m going to be honest—I hate those stars. I wish I didn’t get them, but they are a part of me now. No point in getting them removed. The second star to the right was the most painful part of the small tattoo; the bone is right there.
Otherwise, I love my basic wrist tattoo. The word Believe is from one of Walt Disney’s famous quotes: “First, think. Second, believe. Third, dream. And finally, dare.” (Fun fact: My friend and roommate from Iona, Shniv, actually made me a canvas that is in my bedroom with that quote on it.) I’m a huge Disney nerd in general, but I really love that quote.
But that’s not the reason why I got that word.
I, like most human beings, have self-esteem issues. I have had it for as long as I can remember. I overanalyze and second guess everything, so I wanted something that would give me that little push to believe. To believe in others, in my dreams, and, especially, in myself.
That sounds totally cheesy, I know—but again, I don’t care. I’ve come to accept and love my cheesiness.
I got my most recent tattoo last year. My plan was to get matching ones with Jeanette for her birthday, and I went through a lot of the usual, cheesy Matching Best Friend Tattoos on the internet. When I came across the moon and the sun, I added it to my Tattoo Choices board on Pinterest, and showed it to Nette later that week.
During lunch at Sonic, she quickly decided that we should get the sun and moon. And it didn’t take us too long to figure out a spot to get them.
Amanda came with us to Tattoo Lou’s in the Bay Shore mall—which was also the first time I went somewhere other than to Tara. And since we both got something so minimalistic, we barely spent any time in the chair.
I was super excited about my moon tattoo; I wanted something that dealt with the moon for a long time, and I was never set on a specific design. I was lucky, too, that Nette wanted to have the sun—it made sense that she had that one and I had the moon. Not only was she more of a morning person, and I a night person, but they matched our personalities really well: she is wild and full of life, whereas I am the calm constant. We balance each other out really well.
Lately, I have been craving another, but I think I am going to keep myself on hold for now. I definitely know that at some point I will get the yin yang that I’ve always wanted (because, you know, I’m not basic enough), and I have a couple others in mind that I’m not completely sure of yet. But I’m excited to find out what I stick with.
Prompt: Do you have a tattoo? If so, what’s the story behind your ink? Would you like more? If you don’t have a tattoo, what might you consider getting emblazoned on your skin?