Monday, August 30, 2010


I feel like writing about something different. I guess it goes with my impending divorce, but not really. I want to talk about my tattoos.

Some people see tattoos as being classless and white trashy. I know my parents aren't happy about the placement of my tattoos, but they don't care about the tattoos themselves. I do worry that people see my wrist tattoo and think less of me. Yet, I don't regret any of my tattoos or their placement. Each one, even if they don't necessarily have meaning, they represent a part of my life, good and bad.

In six weeks I got three tattoos. This seems excessive even to me. Normally, I am a bit tight fisted with my money, and ink is the last thing I want to spend it on, but the seperation gave me the nudge I needed to fulfill this need in me. For now it's been sated and I'm happy with the three new ones I've gotten.

My dad said that he read once that people who get arm tattoos are insecure, but he softened this statement by flexing his arm and laughing, showing off his arm tattoo. I can see this, but for me the tattoos have helped immensely with my self esteem. Before getting my first arm tattoo I refused to wear a tank top. Upon getting it, I would wear them here and there. Then I got the fan on the other arm and all of a sudden I can't get enough of tank tops. Maybe I feel the tattoos will detract people from looking at my gut or worse my boobs (Seriously, I'm self concious about the size of them and felt if I wore a tank top I was trying to call attention to them). Because of my tattoos I've had better body image and self esteem.

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