So. As I said in a post early this year regarding the tattoo enhancement I got in January: I do not regret my tattoo. It is not the perfect tattoo I imagined but I do have a reminder of all my doubt, my second-guessing, and my failure to speak my soul. Which, ironically, was the F-ing point of the tat in the first place. I do not regret it. In this, my year of positivity, I am choosing to see it as my beautiful mistake. A bright image of my insecurities and doubt, a forever reminder on etched upon my skin. But I lied. LIED! I don’t mean I regretted getting it. I don’t. Just that I was unable to see it as just a beautiful mistake. I was embarrassed by how bad it was and I didn’t want it to represent who I was, who I am because it didn’t. I’d like to think that while colorful, I am not badly designed and without depth. Sure, I liked some elements of it. The way the right side looked like a rhino was funny cool. The bright garish colors were so different and pretty –when I held my arm out fully extended, took off my glasses and squinted my eyes. But I started hunting for bracelets to cover it up. I kept my sleeves down. I was self-conscious if someone noticed it. I’d have to explain the story, pull out the pictures of what it should look like. I protested so much. Waaaaaay too much. Husband was sick of how much I talked about it, looked at it, cried about it. “Quit staring at it. It hasn’t changed. It’s going to be there forever.” So last month, I quit whingeing and did something about it. I found this studio here in Nashville with an artist that has worked on covering up/amending tattoos. I met with her and liked her and what she said and how she said it and so I arranged to have her amend my beautiful mistake. AND I LOVE WHAT SHE DID! She actually listened to me and she actually asked me exactly what I meant when I wasn’t quite clear - which I can be sometimes. She showed me how it would look before she came at me with her tiny needles of pain. AND she kept my inhalexhale whaleshark and the weird rhino bit at the left. I love that this tat has a beginning and middle and ending and that every piece of it – including the story of how I got it and the second bit and the third bit - is a part of who I am. A sort of evolution of my sense of self. It, in itself, is a messy story like the mess that is I. Or as I said earlier this year: … that every little thing you do is etched on your skin, on your self. We are all covered in scars. Some little, some big, some more visible than others. And regardless of the result, take these lessons, these beautiful mistakes and learn from them. Embrace them and grow forward, not back. I waffled on sharing pictures because I do think that some times words take away from pictures but vague-booking is not what I’m intending to do so here we go - But what it actually looked like. Not. Even. Close. Sigh. To quote my mother, "Interesting. A little gaudy, but you won't see another one like it anywhere."
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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