Over a year or so ago, when I realized that my 40th
birthday was a reality I couldn’t escape, I started coming up with a bucket
list for my 30s. I’ll admit it, it was an idea I stole from a friend. She was
working on a “30 before 30” list. “40 before 40” just seemed like overkill. So,
like a true Gen-Xer, I cut it in half and my “20 before 40” list was born.
I’m marking items off my list in any order I can get to
them. Some have been easy to mark off (run a 5k); others have been a little
more difficult. But I must admit I am kinda proud of the fact that I was able
to mark off “Leave the Country” without marking off “Get a Passport.” *bow*
This past weekend I marked off a major milestone, “Get
rid of horrid ankh tattoo.”
When I was 19 (at least 6 years too young to make any
sort of permanent life-changing decision, btw), an older friend talked
me into letting him give me a tattoo. I thought it was so cool that he did
tattoos… For two weeks, he constantly
asked me if I was ready. “Think Ink,” he kept telling me. He had a couple of
books of patterns. I looked through them and picked out a solid black ankh and
decided the back of my neck was the perfect spot for it.
And for a couple of years, it was cool.
And then it wasn’t.
There were many years that my “cool” ankh tattoo left me
feeling embarrassed and ugly. The back of my neck was permanently marred by
this black-ink symbol, one most people had no clue of what it was (yes, really).
Every hairdresser I’ve been to has always been instructed to “make sure my hair
is long enough to cover my tattoo.”
People I work with have never seen me with my hair up. I went through a
3 month running program and never wore my hair up for fear one of my co-workers
would see and judge me by my ugly tattoo. Running in a 5k program in June in
the south with heavy hair down your back… I do not recommend.
I felt like I had only 2 options:
-
Live with it.
- Tattoo removal
I looked into tattoo removal, but that is a very
expensive option. It would have taken multiple expensive and painful sessions
to remove my ankh. Plus there was the chance of scarring. My research also
scared me – when tattoos are removed, that ink doesn’t just disappear. So where
does it go? No, not into the landfill,
it goes into your lymph nodes. Yuck.
So I was living with option #1 and then, enter Option 3.
Thanks to Facebook, DH got back in touch with an old
friend of ours from Atlanta. Back in 1996 when we used to hang out, Darrin was
a very talented tattoo artist. Now, over 15 years later, he is a very
accomplished artist. After a visit with him, option 3 began to materialize… a
cover up. I went home and started doing image searches on Google. On my next
visit with Darrin I proudly showed him what I had found. It was an adorable
little black cat with a blue butterfly, and it was shot down immediately.
“I’m not going to replace one black blob you don’t like
with another black blob you won’t like,” was his answer, and I couldn’t argue
with that logic.
So, instead of a new black blob, he went over the ankh
with white ink. This was to help fade it out and give us more options for cover
ups next time. I went home with a sore neck and my same old ankh tattoo, only
slightly lighter. While I was disappointed at the time, I agreed with Darrin
and now I’m so glad things worked out this way. Over the next few months, I
spent a lot of time in Google images (I like the old images format better, btw,
Google.) and decided I liked cherry blossoms. I loved the wise, knotted
branches, the bright colors of the petals. I found tattoos that looked more
like oil paintings and water colors than tattoos. I started saving all of the
images that had aspects I liked.
Finally the day came. Darrin was in town. From the start,
he was pleased. He thought the white ink had lighted the ankh enough (to me it
was still black and ugly). I showed him the pictures I had collected and he liked
them, too. We looked at them together; I showed him what I liked and he showed
me details that he liked. I gave him my guidelines, as much of my left shoulder
as he wanted, down the back of my neck, but not visible from the front or side.
And most of all make it pretty.
When he was ready, he looked at my back for a few minutes.
And then he drew freehand on me with several sharpies. Once he was finished I
checked it out in the mirror, I think I may have let out a squee, and then I
told him I couldn’t wait to see it.
He proceeded to tattoo, using multiple machines, needles,
and colors. We talked a little while he worked. I told him some of the details
I liked from the pictures. “Yeah, you’ve got some of those,” he would reply. I
asked him what colors he was going to use for the flowers and was nonchalantly
told, “Pinks, purples, maybe a little red.”
I was definitely not in the driver’s seat. Which was for the best, I am the
one who suggested a black blob at first. “I can’t wait to see it,” I told him
again.
The whole process took about 2 hours. Time passes
surprisingly quickly when you’re getting inked. It would have taken even less time
if I hadn’t needed him to stop a few times… tattooing hurts! Once he was finished, he cleaned me up and
was ready to show me his art.
I still can’t believe how beautiful my tattoo is. I’ve
worn my hair up every day while it heals. Walking into the office that first
day was frightening. I was ready for judgment to rain down upon me. Instead,
everyone who saw it and commented on it, used words like, “lovely” and
“beautiful”. I’m sure there are plenty who have other opinions, but they’ve
kept them to themselves. The old, “if you don’t have anything nice to say,
don’t say anything at all” phrase is pretty much always applicable.
For the first time in I don’t know how long, I feel like
the ink on the back of my neck is gorgeous. Of all of the items I’ve marked off
my “20 before 40” list, this is one that I will appreciate for a long, long
time.
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| (The Ankh was under the top flower) |
