Ahh the age old debate.
Why would you put a bumper sticker on a Lamborghini?
You’ll regret it when you’re 75 and saggy!
You’ll never get a job!
These are just some of the arguments that I have encountered in regards to getting a tattoo. Do tattoos make people look trashy and irresponsible? Would you lose respect for someone if you found out they had a tattoo of a unicorn on their ankle? For some people, these statements are true. But really, how sad is that? Why in the world are you so concerned with what is on MY body? I can promise you that having a tattoo does not affect how my brain works in any way.
It’s 2015 people, get with the program. Tattoos aren’t what they used to be. Now, I can only speak for myself of course, but I think people should be able to do whatever they want with their bodies with no consequences from others. People use tattoos to express themselves, to feel unique and to show off how freaking cool they are. Honestly, if I see you have a tattoo, I think “badass” and immediately want to be friends with you. You had the confidence to endure that much pain in order to show off your uniqueness. People with tattoos aren’t afraid of what some stuffy, privileged old man thinks of them. They do what they want and SCREW EVERYONE ELSE. Why wouldn’t you want to live life like that? We are the new generation, we can set the standards wherever we want to.
Maybe not all people think like that, and that’s fine. Some people think tattoos make you look dumb and uneducated. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But I don’t like you.
I got my tattoo when I was 18 years old. I always wanted one and I knew that when the second I was of age I was going to get one. My parents were not happy when they found out, (sorry mom and dad, you’re probably reading this with your hands over your eyes). But I’ve always been the kind of person who does exactly what she wants, even as a little kid.
My tattoo means a lot to me. Ever since I was about 13 years old, I have struggled with depression and anxiety. For a long time, I let it consume me. I let it control my life. I was always in pain for some reason. And the worst part was most of the time, I didn’t even know why. But one day, I decided to put my big girl pants on and, essentially, stop being such a little bitch. I decided I was stronger than the disease and I wasn’t going to let it control my life anymore. Every day is a blessing. Every day I wake up thinking, I’m going to make this day my bitch. Every day I take life by the balls, look it in the eyes and say “this is my day.”
Yes, that’s very intense. But I’m not afraid anymore and I’m proud to say it. Once I realized this, I knew exactly what I wanted written on my body. Permanently.
“With Pain Comes Strength”. Tatted right on my ribs under my heart. And every day I look at it in the mirror and use it as a reminder that even the worst of days have meaning.
So, old man in the stuffy suit interviewing me for the job, are you not going to hire me because I have a tattoo? Yeah? Then shit, why would I want to work for you anyways?