Now that my new tattoo is finally healed, I’d like to share the process that I underwent to have pieces of my mom and sisters with me forever. Please read on.
First, I had to figure out what I wanted. I played around with places to get it, but from the beginning I knew exactly what I wanted and how I wanted it.
At first, I wanted each of my ladies to draw a heart for me. But the more I thought about it, I wanted it to be natural and not forced. First try, no re-do’s. The best way to do that was search around my apartment for love notes from each of them.
From my mom is one of my very first business cards for LTT. For some reason I got them mailed to my home in New Hampshire, and she was sweet enough to mail me a handful with this sweet post it.
My older sister’s heart is from this past Valentine’s Day; a card with a very muscular, mostly naked man on the front. I’ve always envied her girly, half-cursive handwriting, being that I’m a lefty with childlike penmanship.
And from the little one, an adorable hand-drawn picture that lives on the right side of a folding picture frame she made me with a photo of us by a water fountain on Fifth Ave. on the other side. She no doubt put lots of time and effort into this amazingly sweet gift, and gifts like this will always by my favorite. I think she also learned that annoying artist problem that occurs when you try to use marker over a crayon here. I chose the purple.
Now onto the pain. And if your mom tells you it feels like a bandaid being ripped off, she’s lying.
He puts on the print to make sure I like the position and design.
I said that it was perfect and to just do it before I chicken out. And so it began.
I think the lip was out before it even started. Then I realized how bad it was actually hurting. Queue in-pain-face.
What felt like an eternity (and was actually only about one minute) later, I had my very first tattoo!
When I was finished, my entire right arm was out of commission for a few hours. Even though it really didn’t hurt, I was terrified of bumping it on something or messing it up somehow. It was as if I had broken my arm in a terrible shoe sale fight and simply couldn’t use it. Ok, maybe I was being a little dramatic.
I will finish this off by saying that I never thought I’d get a tattoo, but being that I’m almost old enough to legally rent a car, I figured I’m also responsible and old enough to make a decision as big as something that will be on my body forever.
I got it onthe side of my right hand so I can remain professional when I shake someone’s hand; it will be on the bottom and relatively unseen. Also, on my right hand so it won’t show on my wedding day when we do closeups of our rings. You know, my future husband and I. If you know me, you know I like to plan like there’s no tomorrow.
So all that being said, I have soooo much more respect for those of you that have full sleeves or something that took hours to do rather than seconds. And lastly, I hope anyone that has a tattoo loves theirs just as much as I love mine!
Ps. My older sister got the same one as me, but switched our hearts. And you better believe the little one will be getting the same as soon as she decides she wants it. And is old enough. 🙂