Tattoos always fascinated me, from the day I first learned about what they were to the present day.

The fact that people actually got something permanent on their body astonished me. Didn't it hurt? Will they regret it? What gave them the idea to get something like that on their body?

My mind ran wild with questions, all the way up to the day when I sat in the chair with a needle getting closer to my skin.

I've always wanted a tattoo. I used to draw pages upon pages of different ideas that I thought would have been unique and expressive towards who I am. But society decided to slap me in the face and tell me that it wasn't worth it.

I was told that I would never get a job that actually amounted to something, or that certain companies wouldn't hire me if I had a visible tattoo.

I'm sorry, the last time I checked those companies had no right telling me that a piece of art on my body dictated who I was as a person and an employee.

My brother told me the place where he worked wouldn't hire anyone with colored hair, tattoos, or unappealing piercings. This was at a point where I had bright purple hair and was trying to convince my mom to allow me to get a tattoo, so you can probably guess my reaction to that.

First, I was furious, because I was being told that my talents meant nothing to some people just based off the way I looked.

Five minutes later, I was confused. How could anyone think that something as simple as a tattoo or colored hair affect that person's personality. Heads up, in the forty minutes it took to get my tattoo done, I didn't really change that much.

After that, I was laughing.

My brother was talking to me about this like I was planning to work there, but after hearing their policies, that was the last thing I wanted to do.

So, I laughed and told him, "It's a great place to work, I'm sure, but I'm not working somewhere I'm not accepted for who I am."

Being him, he argued with me and told me I was being conceited, but I ignored it and knew that he was just acting out because he was my brother and that's what we did on a daily basis.

My point is, tattoos don't dictate who people are.

I have a quill on my wrist that's half the length of my forearm. It's my first tattoo, it's probably not my last, and I love it so much.

It symbolizes who I am as a person, it shows my passions for writing and creativity, and if a company decides that it makes me an unsuitable employee, then so be it.

You just lost a prospective employee.

Because I'm not going to let anyone destroy my creativity.