Beauty Through Pain and Tears
I'm 31 years old, and I got my first tattoo 2 days ago. It was a big deal for me, and took over a decade for me to do.
I have been fascinated with tattoos for about 17 years, since my mother got one on her hip for her 35th Birthday. I was completely shocked that Mom had a tattoo, but also fascinated.
I have always been afraid of pain, so a tattoo was out of the question (until recently). I knew it would hurt, and even though I thought tattoos could be very beautiful, I didn't think it would be worth the pain. Plus, there was the 'stigma' of being tattooed. Where I lived (Montana) tattooing still had a bad reputation.
Over the years I hung out with local hometown rock bands (sometimes I sang for them), then moved to Seattle, and I became a makeup artist, and learned bellydancing. Many of my friends were tattooed, and I even missed out on a few opportunities to join friends who were getting tattoos at the same time. For over a decade, I was surrounded by a genre of people who were creative and artistic, and tattooed. I loved to look and dream about "what I would get"- that is, IF I were brave enough.
There was also the issue of permanence. I mean, whatever the tattoo is, it never comes off. I didn't want to mess up and get something I would regret. My first boyfriend had a previous girlfriend's name on his arm, so I didn't want anything that I would regret- or anything that would remind me of emotional pain. No symbols or names. So, I decided that a tattoo wasn't for me.
Over the years, the American Tribal Bellydance movement began, as well as the "Modern Primitives" movement. Mehndi was popular in the USA. I bought books and magazines that showed various body art- makeup, and tattoos- and I even drew (fake) tattoos on actors for local independent films. I became engulfed in work and eventually the 'real world' became my focus, and I gave up most of my creative interests, in favor of a job in the technology field of a large corporation.
I was so busy concentrating on my career that one day I woke up and I was over 30. I was bored. VERY bored. And depressed. Then Sept. 11th came, and the world changed. I realized that we can never be 100 percent of anything, so all we can really do is follow our dreams while we can. So why let fears and insecurities stop me from doing what I really wanted to do?!
I did some soul searching, and the answers came quickly. I needed to be true to myself. I needed to be creative and expressive. I had forgotten the part of me that loved to create and be an artist and dancer. I also realized that the world had changed while I was busy at work. Music had evolved, as well as culture, fashion and art. I had fallen out of step with the times.
I made a list of the things I truly wanted to do, but for various reasons I was afraid to do them, or had excuses for not doing them. That list became a list of GOALS. Getting a tattoo was one of the things on that list.
It was also a spiritual opportunity, for many reasons. I'll share the four biggest ones with you. First, I wanted to deal with my fear of physical pain. I knew being tattooed would hurt, but would have a beautiful result. Second, I wanted it to mark some personal changes I'd gone through in the past few years. The tattoo was like a 'reward.' Third, it was a decision to make a commitment to myself, and to make my life as beautiful as I could by honoring and expressing myself. And the fourth big reason was that I had fought with my body for years, hating my size and struggling with bad skin and weight. I had also been abused by other people. I wanted to "claim" my body, to make it mine and make peace with it, instead of fighting with it. I wanted my body to finally be something that I owned that belonged to me.
So back to the drawing board- I wanted no symbols or bad memories. I searched the internet for weeks. I liked the new tribal style tattoos, but I wanted something a bit more feminine. I found several pictures of designs that were similar to what I wanted, and went to an artist with those, and a list of words to describe what I had in mind: swirls; gems; blue, purple and peacock colors; middle-eastern-ish but not too ethnic; looking like both stained glass and jewelry. I wanted my lower back and feet tattooed, and eventually my hips.
It sounded like a tall order to me, but I had a friend whose sister owned a tattoo shop about 30 minutes from Seattle. I went to the shop and shared my ideas with the artist. A week later, she emailed me the art she'd drawn for my lower back, to start. It was nearly perfect, but not quite "me." I kept the design, but just embellished a few spots- added a swirl here, and a gem or two there. Finally, it was perfect. My big day was that weekend.
By that time, it felt like getting a tattoo was almost just a 'formality' because mentally I had already accepted the idea. I was excited. Once I was at the shop, I finally got nervous. I put my mind on autopilot so my imagination wouldn't run away with me. I had made a decision, and that was that, so chickening out was not an option. That was part of the personal commitment experience- having doubts and feeling nervous but sticking to my decision. That was very important to me.
After the design was copied on my back and the various inks and tools ready, the artist began. Ouchie! Oh, wait...it wasn't so bad after all....I can handle this! Besides, I'm not going home with a partial tattoo, so now that she's started, I'm in this for the duration! A friend showed up shortly after the tattooing began for moral support. We chatted while I was being tattooed, and occasionally the artist would get to a sensitive spot and I'd wince. After about an hour, I did cry a bit- she was working in a particularly sensitive area. Once the outline was done, I got to take a look and WOW! It was worth it, even worth the tears.
Now, the shading and coloring began. This design turned out to be a bigger project than we had expected (about 10" x 5"), and time was running short. My artist even asked her next appointment to come in later so she could finish with me. I sort of zoned in and out of the pain, and I think the whole process took about 3 hours. The last hour hurt really bad. I used a breathing technique (exhale into the pain). I still cried a lot, but kept my head down and held still so I wouldn't mess up the tattoo. Even though it hurt, in my mind I was thinking how beautiful it would be when it was finished. I finally became 'numb' and suddenly it was over. I took a look in the mirror. WOW!!!
My tattoo was vibrant and stunning. The colors weren't what I expected (they were much brighter) but the design was perfect. I was now tattooed.
My artist instructed me on aftercare, and asked me to come back in a few weeks after it healed so she could check it. My backside didn't hurt much, and I was a little dizzy, and hungry.
It is now 2 days later, and I am still getting used to it. I want to see if the colors change after it heals...I like it, but I may want a little more blue in a couple places. Otherwise, I am happy and it was worth it. I still plan to get my feet and hips tattooed. But first I want this one to heal. So even after the pain and tears, and the years it took me to find the courage, I did it- and I would do it again.
-Petra
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