For anybody who knows me reasonably well, it is no secret I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a very long time. I’ve always hesitated because of the skin and pain issues. And then, my birthday rolled around this year.
And somewhere in there, I decided this was it. I was going to get it done. A design was finalized. An artist selected (who, by happy coincidence, was an old high school friend I had not seen since…well, high school). An appointment made. And a dear friend drove me.
Jen (the artist) thought she could work with my skin. So into the chair and under the needle I went. It took about 10 minutes to do the simple ankle piece, and honestly only felt like a very deep scratching on my skin. And then it was done. I had survived.
Of course, the real test was how it would heal within the first 48 hours. Which it has. Beautifully, I might add. I keep staring at my ankle, not quite believing it is there.
But there it is. Reminding me not to listen to the impossibles.
So I guess that’s the point. People will tell you this is impossible. That is impossible. And don’t even think about doing that other thing over there. And maybe they’re right.
But maybe, just maybe, they aren’t.