Sunday, March 16, 2008

like a woodpecker, except not.

My tattoos are as much a part of my body as well, my hair, or my eyes, or the veins in my wrists or the freckles on my... never mind. Yes, I put them there, they're not genetic and they're artificial, but they're me. I could have a nose job and a boob job and so much plastic surgery to change the way I look, and I don't think people would react in so much horror than they do to me putting a little ink into my skin. I've hardly got "cunt" tattooed on my forehead, have I?

They mean something to me; a period in my life I want to remember, and perhaps more importantly, marking my body as mine, accepting the way I look and becoming comfortable in my skin and myself. My legs, my arse, my face. So I'm not some generically "hot" girl; I'm not a blonde middle-class princess (well, I am blonde, and I am middle-class, but I can stand on my own two feet thank you very much) and I like who I am. Getting a tattoo is my way of saying "I love myself", marking myself as my own individual.

So don't tell me "it's not so bad", that at least I've not got sleeves or a chest-piece or something visible. You wouldn't tell me I was fat on the second date, would you?

Oh no, you did.

No comments:

Post a Comment