Wear It Proudly

A couple weeks ago, I was playing on the floor with Reese when she started poking her finger into my back. At first, I couldn't figure out what she was doing, and then I suddenly realized exactly what she was doing. She had noticed my tattoo.

Yes, I have a tattoo. It's a little purple flower on the right side of my lower back. I got it in college with my best friend who has a similar one. (You know how it is, a good friend goes with you to get a tattoo, but a great friend gets into the chair next to you. Well, that was me. I went there planning to be a good friend and came out as a permanent great friend). Lots of people - mostly older people - told me I would regret it someday, but I never thought I would. Then something changed in the last few years. I started feeling self-conscious if I thought it was showing. I had a different reaction when people asked about it. And then I had a daughter, and I kept thinking about how I would have to explain it to her someday. (And by someday, I meant years from now. Little did I know she would already be poking it at ten months old). The more I thought about it, the more I got down on myself for not respecting the body God gave me and for not thinking about the long-term consequences of my decisions.

Well, I recently had a miniature epiphany, and my whole attitude changed. I don't really know what brought it on. I've been doing a lot of religious reading and self-reflecting lately (hence the blog) and it's helped me begin to understand a lot of personal issues - even little things like how I feel about having a tattoo. Anyway, I started thinking about why I made this into such a big deal in my head. I think it's partly because I sometimes feel judged for it. Well, shame on anyone who judges someone for such a dumb reason, and shame on me for letting other people make me feel bad about my body or my past. Every mark I have (visible and not visible) represents a part of my life that makes me who I am today, and I like that person. My tattoo represents a carefree time in my life. It represents the close relationship I have with my friend (who was my maid of honor and is now the Godmother of my baby girl). Every time I see it I think of her and the fun we had in college and the road that led me to Matt and back to God. So I'm done feeling bad about it. I'm done thinking about removing it. I'm done feeling judged over it. I have a tattoo and I like my tattoo. And from now on, I'm wearing it proudly.