As I was changing to work out this afternoon, I saw something that I hadn’t seen in a while: my dime-sized heart tattoo. I guess I have just been so used to seeing it for the past 12 years that I haven’t paid much attention to it for quite some time. At the time I got this, I thought that I was so cool/rebellious/grown-up/awesome. While it doesn’t bother me, as an adult, it does make me laugh. I have absolutely nothing against tattoos; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. I think that they can be so beautiful and creative, but while mine is very cute, I don’t think it falls into the category of “creative.”
I remember the night that I got it: It was December 1998, just a few days after my 18th birthday. Three friends (yes, you’re getting called out!), Lexi, Lindsay, and Chelsea, came with me to Psycho Tattoo in Atlanta. Being students at a Catholic high school, many of the people we saw there were a bit different from those that we were used to. Just the same, we wanted to show how “down” and cool we were. Apparently, the best way to prove that was by getting a tiny red heart tattooed on my hip. While it may sound silly, I felt so untouchable after I did it. Maybe it was the fact that I was being so sneaky (my parents had no idea), or that it was something so “out of the norm” for me, but whatever it was, I was so happy with my new piece of ink.
Fast forward 12 years, and here we are today. While I still do think it’s cute, I think I could have done without this little thing. It’s not that it bothers me, it’s just that I know that, in time, it won’t look like quite the same cute little heart that it originally did. I have a friend who had a lizard tattooed around her bellybutton in college, and after having a baby, that thing looked like a T-rex. Granted, a heart is probably a little bit more forgiving as you gain weight, but still, my goal wasn’t to have a heart with one lobe grossly bigger than the other. Ah, what a difference a few (ok, more than a few) years makes!