17. Get a TattooPosted: January 16, 2013
2 days 10:09 am I woke up today and double checked my calendar. Where had the weeks gone, seriously did time just want to throw me down a rabbit hole and laugh in the evil muhahaha, the same one the universe gives me every morning right before the alarm goes off.
I was at my desk at work wishing I could curl into a ball. To say that this was a nerve racking, hand shaking, excitement pumping experience was the just of the first slice of cake. Is it worth it? The wad of cash that I handed over to declare my body marked and changed on the outside to match the inside. As of right now I don’t know but I will keep you posted, because really all I have to think of the isolation as blood gushes forth.
The morning of was full of distractions; go to the bank, post office, get milk and gas, and compartmentalize the nerves. I baked cupcakes with my dearest of friend spent some time whittling the hours away till I’m sitting on a vintage Victorian couch. I sit there wasting away a water bottle before the process even began.
I text my cousin for last minute advice, almost like he would give me a reason not to do this. My friend put her hands on mine and distracted me with looking at the portfolio of several of the artist. My heart grew and the more I looked the more the anticipation turned to excitement. This is it.
“Deep breathes and don’t flinch,” my cousin responded, “everything with be fine.”
I talked to my awesome tattoo artist Shish, before we went in, about the design. I stayed definitive on what I wanted. The message was clear, this is my body. Mark the outside to match the inside. This is my truth, not some made up happiness that others want for me.
Shish led the way to a table where I sat and took in preparations: needles, ink colors, gloves. The machine hummed excitedly as my hand slipped into my friends. The first stroke had the needle flitting across my skin, and my hand was light within her’s. Its vibration is no more than some household gadgets, and I laughed at the distant nervous me.
I morphed with fearless giggling, even as the strokes deepened and the pain thudded inside my walls I smiled. The thudding rhythm relaxed as my soul broke free. I took deep breathes, with the reminding of my dear friend, as I sat back for the first time. One of the other tattoo artist peered in on Shish’s work.
He asked grinning, “How are you?”
“It’s feeling good,” I said.
“It looks freaking amazing,” he said, “your doing good for your first.”
As he spoke Shish shaded the colors and took white to add some contrast. The last five minutes gone.
Leaving, I handed Shish my wad of cash.
In return gave us both the biggest welcome to the tattoo club/ congrats hug.
My tattoo done; my spirit elated. I’m done.