Tattoo You

So, you may be wondering about the tattoo poll I posted on the blog. Or maybe not. You've never been the curious type, I know.

For years I have toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo. My brain just cannot let go of the thought, even though it always (ultimately) boycotts the notion whenever it bubbles to the top. The idea continues to intrigue me, this thought of making permanent on my skin what lives in my heart.

So, what keeps me from taking the plunge? This may be the oddest excuse out there, but here goes. As you may recall, I have vitiligo and went through total depigmentation when I was 14 (hence the name of my blog). If there is any benefit to being super fair (and also limiting my sun exposure), it's that my skin is completely unmarred. I don't have freckles or moles or anything like that - anywhere. For some reason, when I look at myself in the mirror, I have a hard time imagining myself with a decoration.

The other reason is that I worry about what the future me will think of this thing. I have a hard enough time reconciling the "one who packs my lunch" me and the "one who has to eat my lunch" me (seriously, how can I be so disappointed in my own lunch every day when I am the one who packs it?) The future me may be someone entirely different from the now me. Who knows. Plus, there are certainly plenty of reasons to be fearful. I think you'd have to agree that there are a lot of bad tattoos out there. Check out this site to see some of the worst. Will I be the same person at 70 that I am now? In about twenty years, there will be a lot of middle aged women with sagging, lumpy tramp stamps that seemed like a good idea at the time (twenty years prior). A lot of regrettable ideas are born of tequila shots and nothing more. And what about the now-responsible adult who has to sit through a job interview with the letters B-E-E-R tattooed across his knuckles, a grim reminder of a very bad night?

I worry so about making a mistake with my choice of tattoo that I've been pondering it for ten solid years. No lie. If I do get a tattoo one of these days, the loose concept I have in my head is of a celestial-type design showing four stars (for the babies I lost) and something to honor my daughter, the one I got to keep. I wish I had some artsy-fartsy skills so that I could truly envision what it would look like. For now, I guess I'll keep mulling it over.

In the meantime, here is one of my favorite songs of late, "Old White Lincoln" by The Gaslight Anthem. I like the line, "You and your high top sneakers and your sailor tattoos."