I mentioned my tattoos to Ladiebug, and she would now like some details.
Well, girl...you will have them...probably more than what you expected.
Since I feel like talking this morning.
I have three tattoos.
I got them when I was 18.
The story behind them is a bit weird.
I always had some very small light scars on both of my knees. They were the results of normal childhood play such as running around in the schoolyard at gym and falling off my bicycle.
They were barely-visible scars (at least my mom thought so) and skin-colored but I always hid them, felt embarrassed by them. I wished I had perfect knees/legs like so many other girls and women. I always thought How did everyone else keep themselves scar-free?? Geez, didn't they ever accidentally fall and scrape themselves?? Why was I so different? Why couldn't I have been more careful or took better care of my cuts and scrapes? I was so uncomfortable with those scars that I resorted to wearing beige/nude-colored pantyhose under my gym shorts at school (!!). And that was the ONLY time I ever wore shorts in public. I never wore mini skirts or dresses either. I sweated out the summers in long jeans. I just felt so inadequate and unattractive when I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I hated how my legs looked. It seemed so unfair. I felt like I was trapped.
Melodramatic? Yes.
Blown out of proportion? Yes.
Just plain silly and vain? Yes.
But that is how I felt. I couldn't help my insecurities.
So that is when I asked my mom if I get help to fix my scars.
With cosmetic surgery.
I don't recall exactly, but I think she first said no...that my scars were so unnoticable...that only I was aware of them...that I should just learn to accept them. But I prodded her, kept asking her. And that was when she agreed that we could consult a cosmetic surgeon.
After inspection of my scars...this is what the surgeon said : it would cost several hundred dollars for a skin-graft type of operation...that it would probably NOT make any difference in how my scars physically appeared because my scars were so light-colored in the first place. In a nutshell, my scars were already considered the "AFTER" result as opposed to the "BEFORE." They could not be altered...and if they could be, then not by that much. It most likely would not have been worth all the trouble and cost.
My heart fell. I was so disappointed. But I agreed that surgery was not the option I was searching for.
When my mom and I came home, I was sitting on a chair when an idea hit me. I went and got my purple, blue, and teal-colored eyeliner pencils. I outlined and colored in my scars in the shape of a butterfly...matching butterflies on each knee. And they actually looked pretty...and effectively hid my scars. I showed my mom...and then told her I wanted to get real tattoos. She thought I had gone a bit nutty...that tattoos were for "bad girls." Again, I bugged and prodded her...and then she finally allowed me to get them.
I went to Spiderwebs in New York City. The tattoo parlor made me a bit uncomfortable since there were rubber penises displayed here and there as decoration. Ewwww. It made the place seem seedy. I felt better though since my mom came with me to offer me some support. And besides, I was a little scared to go to a tattoo parlor all by myself.
My first tattoo was a crescent blue moon near the left back side of my waist. It is a blue outline with a little space inside shaded in. It was sort of a test to see if I were allergic to the inks (allergies CAN happen in reaction to tattoo inks...I was just being cautious. If I did have a negative reaction, I could have removed it. I figured that removing one small tattoo from my back would have been easier than removing TWO tattoos from my knees...strange logic, but it made sense to me back then).
The tattoo process hurt a little. I gripped the frame of a chair the entire time. But, overall, the pain was bearable.
I went home...tattoo looked okay...not the greatest..but it looked pretty. And, no bad ink reaction.
So, I returned for another visit to the parlor.
I had drawn my own butterfly on a piece of paper and handed it over to the guy.
He thought the image looked cool and went to work on them.
He placed a butterfly on each knee.
And presto!...my scars were perfectly concealed.
And I felt confident in my physical appearance.
And I started to feel braver and wore short skirts.
And I started wearing shorts. Not just shorts, but short-shorts.
And I have always gotten stares and reactions and attention from those matching blue butterflies on my knees...mostly positive from what I gathered. Even my professor from my Women's Studies class had a Whoaaaaaa....cool....they are eye-catching response to them when I showed up one day at class wearing a short black dress.
And I always felt daring and cool with the crescent moon on my lower back, especially when I am wearing backless tops.
But.
I also feel like a "tart" sometimes because of my tattooed knees.
But.
They also make me unique.
Yet.
I wish I never got them sometimes.
Because.
I am at a point in my life where if I never got those tattoos in the first place and only had scars, I would have been able to be comfortable with them.
Sometimes I long for regular knees, long for untouched virgin skin. I wish to sport bare legs in warm weather and not have people inevitably glance or steal a look at my "art."
Sometimes I wish I could remove them. I know it is possible through laser surgery, but it is incredibly EXPENSIVE.
So.
I live with them.
I am proud of them.
I hate them.
I love them.
I am grateful for them.
They are simply a part of me.
A map of myself.