I almost choked on my lunch the day my mother told me that she wanted to get a tattoo.
I’m 19, she’s 56. I brought up getting a tattoo in front of my roommates as a joke in a conversation and never expected my mother to laugh along, let alone tell me she has decided to permanently mark her own body that has been bare for more than half of her life. Now, I could say that I was joking, but really I have always wanted one. My best friend and I always had plans to get a matching tattoo – something small, tasteful – after we both turned 18, but never actually went through with it. Still, I always find myself scouring Pinterest every now and then for that one piece of art that would suit my body and my mind.
We are taught that our bodies are temples. Our parents and grand-parents’ generations seem more accustomed to turning their noses up at the idea of inking our bodies, of permanently marking them with something that was not there when they themselves created us. Body modifications were not as prominent whenever they were growing up. But thanks to the media and the changing of ideals, we as millennials have been shaped around the idea that our body is a canvas, rather than a temple. We have the chance to create ourselves in a way that others can actually see at a glance. We are designing our own scars, proof that we lived and we get to choose what aspects of that people see.
Personally, I think that is so beautiful.
My older siblings, the 90’s babies, both love the idea of tattoos but are scared to get one themselves. What happens if they do not like it? Is that flower or that elephant or that quote something they really want to carry around with them for the rest of their lives? I think this is why I keep holding off as well. I want to mark myself with something that is important to me, something that I can look at and know with confidence that I scarred my own body with that piece of art because I cherish the memory that comes with it.
The fact that my mother now wants a tattoo as well excites me. However, it angers my younger brother. Not everyone is always going to accept everything, and that is OK. You can get a tattoo for someone, but you are never getting that piece of ink to appease anyone else but yourself. It’s your body. Do with it what you will.
Be bold.
Be brilliant.
Be creative.
Write your story in ink, whether it be on paper or your skin. Mark down those moments that make you feel alive so that someday, years from now, you can look down at the marks on your hands and skin – both natural and unnatural – and feel confident in the fact that your life was actually lived.
