Maybe my opinion is a rarity, but could be a possible norm.
And for some reason, society seems to have a very bad connotation on the matter. A woman with a tattoo screams rebel or basic; but for some reason, we’ve forgotten the person behind the tattoo. Even men with tattoos have a rebel image we get from the movies, a bad boy we “shouldn’t go for.” It’s a silly concept that society decided should be a norm.
When you think about it, you realize a tattoo is a scar. We all get scars throughout our lifetime and because of those scars we have stories and we’ve learned from them.
I’ve gotten and seen scars appear from accidents, pure clumsiness and, otherwise, self-induced purposely. For those reasons, it’s understandable to anyone who would put an eraser to their arm if it meant taking a memory away. In other cases, it’s a story to show off to new friends and complete strangers.
A tattoo can happen to be one of those.
It’s an expression, a symbol, a reminder. It’s a piece of the person choosing to carry it for the rest of their life.
Example?
My own piece of art is placed strategically on my right shoulder so whenever I look in any reflection of myself, I can see it. My Anise Swallowtail is dowsed in black and purple, instead of its usual bright yellow hues with hints of black and blue, spots of blurred green dots sprinkled around. And if you look closely, the antennas formed an “L” in the shape of a loose heart. The butterfly seamlessly is landing under a phrase I aspire to keep in my heart and share with the world. In Vietnamese, it loosely translates to “Keep Going On Strong” and is mirrored so that I’m able to read it.
Of course, I get the atypical response of how “basic” getting a butterfly is, or even better, how “girly” it is. My response is with the butterfly project. I am riddled with problems that I keep at bay, one of which is depression.
I had adopted a habit that soon developed into a real and serious problem, which happened to be self-harm. During my many tries of recovery, I learned of, not a solution but, an inspiration to stop. When my urges stepped up, I would draw a small butterfly with a sharpie onto my arm or wherever had an itching. Now my understanding of the project was naming the butterfly after someone who cared about you. Essentially, this symbol would be a reminder of why you should not self-harm. If you had before the ink was slowly disappearing from your skin, you’d “kill” it, thus disappointing your dedication. If you had held out, the butterfly had flown away into the sunset and you made someone proud.
Going through this project had given me a proudness of resistance and represented how much my fear of disappointing others was stronger than what I had thought of myself. Maybe it was something else, but it was something that had kept me going. My now permanent butterfly is a promise to not only myself, but those around me who had been there through my difficult times, to never harm myself in that way again.
That is why attribute my changes in life to the small but complex butterfly.
Why an “L”?
Although my last name is partially true and valid guess, it also is my mom’s maiden name; this ties my two families as one in my heart (*ehem* heart…”L”…). The letter also stands for all the lovely things that start with “L”: live, love, laugh, learn, lift, lasagna, etc.
The one criticism that absolutely kills me is why I have the words that mean the most to me…mirrored. This has been asked from strangers to friends to the tattoo artist that had graced me with my design.
My first response is so that I would be able to see it when I looked into a mirror. This is because it lies on my shoulder and unless my neck extended another 6 inches, I highly doubt it is possible for me to see my tattoo directly face on.
My second reasoning to this apparent monstrosity is you wouldn’t be able to read it always! (“You” referring to whoever seems to be asking.) Most of the people I will encounter would not be able to read or write in Vietnamese. It happens to be my first language and I, admittedly, do not know how to read in Viet either.
Regardless, I always say this tattoo is for me, but anyone can enjoy the beauty and significance of it.
For others to also enjoy my tattoo would be fantastic, but the main point is that this is my tattoo. I worked hard to plan and make the appointment a reality. I love my tattoo because it brings the tiniest bits of me into a whole something that I can show off and still appreciate it as my own.
And this is how it should be for everyone and their tattoo(s). You could cover your body just to look like a badass or have a seemingly cliché one or none at all and it wouldn’t matter. Your goals in life should be your own self and let others do as they please. As long as they weren’t harming or disrespecting others, how does it affect you?
Again, these are passing thoughts in my head, but who knows. Maybe I’ll reach out to you to remember the simple concept of being a positive person. Maybe someone out there will think twice when they see the art on a person and realize the art they brought out of themselves.
Expression comes in all forms, my tattoos just so happens to be the scar I chose with open arms.
