I’m thinking about getting a tattoo but I feel pretty anxious about making the commitment.
I’ve always thought of tattoos as being a bit rebellious. Which is not at all how anyone would describe me. I usually get: laid back or even keeled, sometimes easy going. I feel like people could use the same description for me as they do a calming cup of herbal tea in a novelty mug. Maybe that’s part of the reason I’m thinking about a tattoo. I’m tired of being Chamomile tea.
The thought that a tattoo is permanent though, that’s always in the forefront of my mind. Forever is a long time. Now as someone who’s been a graphic designer for nearly 40 years, I think my eye for design is pretty good, I know how fast styles change.“What if I wake up one day and realize my tattoo looks like a relic from a bygone era, like my old collection of puka shell necklaces?”
My wife has a couple of tattoos, both on her feet and both of my daughters have tattoos, quite a few actually, some of them I’ve even designed myself. Not once have I ever heard them express regret. In fact, their skin was adorned with symbols of empowerment and self-expression. “They’re like walking billboards of confidence,” Me though, “I can barely commit to a lunch order without having an existential crisis. How am I supposed to commit to something as permanent as ink on my skin?” My mind is a raging sea of doubt.
A few people I know have tried to give me advice and have told me to look online for studios and artists I like. This only sends me into an even more frantic spiral of tattoo-induced anxiety. I suppose I could be looking for tattoo love in all the wrong places, but every tattoo parlor seems to have the same things. I’ve scoured tattoo parlors like a man possessed, my mind racing with visions of potential designs that ranged from the sublime to the downright absurd. “Maybe I’ll get a tattoo of a vintage T-square to symbolize my love for graphic design,”“Or a portrait of Sigmund Freud in honor my neurotic tendencies.”
Other people are more philosophical with their advice saying things like “Much like life itself, a tattoo was an ever-evolving work of art—a masterpiece in progress.” If I can ever quiet the turbulent sea of anxiety I feel, I might actually believe them.
Yet, the specter of permanence loomed large, casting a shadow over my aspirations.
Maybe I should get a tattoo like this. Now I just need to figure out where to put it.
