My tattoo

Off and on for years I’ve thought about tattoos: if I want one, what I’d like permanently imprinted on my body, how it would age with me, who should and should not be able to see it, what people would think, how much it would hurt. Mostly, as with SO many things in my life, I wondered what people would think, how they’d judge me. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Last week, with the encouragement of my two tattooed kids, my one underage kid (and therefore not tattooed) and my tattooed husband, I decided what I wanted and where to get it. And my daughter pushed me over the edge with a look and an admonishment, “you’re 56, Mom. Get a tattoo!” And I did: A bicycle with mountains enclosed in one wheel and the earth encompassed in the other. On my thigh. So fitting. So me.

Today, as I went to vote in the primaries here in Maryland, I approached the registration table where there sat a women a bit older than me, a couple of women a bit younger than me, and young woman, probably 18 years old. And as I approached in my shorts, the young woman asked, “Is that a tattoo?”

And I said, “yes.”

To which she replied, “That is AWESOME!”

I’m not sure if she was complimenting the tattoo or the fact that I had one. Either way, my day was made, confirmation that we should do what brings us joy without constantly worrying what others might think of us. Awesome :).

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