Five things I love about tattoos
Yesterday I got matching tattoos with my mum - it was her first - and naturally it was a profound experience. I love my tattoos, as well as the process of getting tattooed itself, and this post is an attempt to convey why that is.
It’s a commitment between my current and future selves
Making this commitment binds the two of us together - my current self commits to doing something that will serve a useful purpose for my future self (see below for examples, a tattoo can be a reminder, or a form of self-expression), and will hopefully bring him joy. My future self is pre-committed to abide by the choices of my past-self; he cannot go back and undo the tattoo. This is one way in which getting a tattoo feels like an act of self-love.
I have always struggled to express myself. My tattoos are a way of at least expressing something, some thought or feeling that had meaning to me at some point, now forever emblazoned on my skin in full view of the world. They help me take the first step in starting the conversation about whatever I want to say, and often that’s the one I need the most help with.
It hurts, and that is important and meaningful
Sacrificing short term discomfort for long term gain is another way of framing the commitment between my current and future selves. Knowing a tattoo will hurt means I will only get one when I am sufficiently sure that the pain will be worth it.
This pain also binds people together; I look at people with tattoos I know would’ve been extremely difficult to sit through with respect and admiration, and perhaps others do the same to me. Similarly, artists are aware that they are hurting me, but in a necessary way that we have both opted-into. I chose to trust them in this process, and become vulnerable before them, and that creates meaning between us too.
The artists are always interesting, often wonderful, and occasionally enlightened
I’ve had exclusively positive experiences with artists, and have found the process of being tattooed by them extremely enjoyable. All of them have been respectful and appreciated the seriousness and permanence of my choice to get a tattoo from them, even when they’re tattooing several other people that day.
Most have worked extremely hard to get to where they are, and many that have tattooed me have obviously had tough lives - however this has made them grateful for their current situation, rather than cynical. They’re not just artists, but connoisseurs and craftspeople. They appreciate that getting tattooed is a vulnerable act, and will often be willing to reciprocate a little of this vulnerability. They’re excited about my ideas and excited about me, creating a feeling of acceptance that somehow manages to transcend its transactional nature.
Tattoos are excellent reminders of things I am prone to forgetting
My tattoos help me maintain a healthy perspective whenever I’m lost. Amongst others, they remind me that:
- Things will change and that’s ok,
- I can always choose again,
- There are things more important than me and that’s beautiful,
- Everything will work out alright in the end.
In this way, they are my objects of meditation.
It’s a celebration of my body
I’ve had almost exclusively negative feelings about my body and my skin for a long time now, but my tattoos are slowly changing that. I’m cautious of using them to try to cover up what I don’t like and hide myself away, but so far I believe that hasn’t been the case at all - simply being able to look at a body part and feel warmly about it has been transformative, and has helped me understand how to look at the untattooed parts of myself with love too.
I have many expectations about how my body “should” look, and have various negative feelings attached to it. Seeing my skin as something with the possibility of being an artistic medium has helped me let go of long-held notions that parts of my body ought to conform to some expectation of size or shape.