“Do you want to cover those?”
Me and one of my bridesmaids were shopping for her dress when she motioned to a tub of tattoo concealer. I was confused. Her skin was also adorned with permanent ink, yet she was suggesting I go to extremes to cover mine, as if having them show while wearing my wedding dress was a bad thing.
7 years ago today, I took that walk down the aisle. It may not be my anniversary when you read this (2/24), and while Thomas and I don’t really celebrate (we’re just relieved we made it this far without killing each other!) but one can’t help but to think about that day on an anniversary. It wasn’t until I came across this picture that I remembered the moment I wrote about above:
“Are you SURE you don’t want to cover those?”
The thought had never even crossed my mind. Why would you get a tattoo and then cover it up?
Not all of my tattoos are amazing. They aren’t all done with the best artistry. Hell, you might even call a few “bad”. Some of the lines aren’t quite straight. Some of them are old and the colors have begun to wash out, maybe eventually I will go and get them “fixed”, but they are all reminders of how I got to be the person that I am. They tell the story of the person I have become. They are my bread crumbs. Why would I want to cover that on the day my life would yet again be changing?
Almost everyone who has tattoos, at least once, gets asked “aren’t you going to regret those when you’re older?” and my answer is always NO WAY. I will have permanent reminders of times in my life so significant that I felt the need to get my skin permanently inked. If I go totally batshit crazy and lose my memory, my skin will still hold it for me. My bread crumbs.
Even when I’m old and wrinkly, and my tattoos are faded and saggy and people make a game out of guessing what they are, I still won’t regret them; I’ll still love them.
No, bridesmaid, I won’t be covering my tattoos. Ever.
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