I don’t have a single tattoo. Back in high school there was a time when I seriously considered one, but a) I have thee lowest pain tolerance and b) anything I considered seemed a bit cliché. When I started dating my husband, I quickly learned he was (and is) dead-set against tattoos, but I still haven’t totally abandoned the idea.
My older sister, Maria, has two meaningful tattoos and she has never regretted getting inked. Her first, a tiny Celtic cross on the insider of her left wrist, is delicate and hardly noticeable. Her second is the scripture ‘For when I am weak, then I am strong’ (2nd Cor. 12:10) translated into French on the inside of her forearm. Both remind her that God is ever present and faithful to us regardless of our circumstances.
The more I’ve traveled and learned about myself, the more I’ve contemplated the idea of a tattoo. Having a visible and permanent reminder of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come seems attractive. While I may never fully convince myself to take the plunge, if I did get a tattoo, it would be the word ‘edit’ lightly pressed on my wrist.
As a writer, what I find most powerful is that, unlike real life, in writing you can go back. You have myriad chances to say it again, to say it better, to say it how you meant it. Having ‘edit’ on my wrist would be a reminder that if and when I make a mistake or the words don’t come out right, I can still make things right.
Do you have a tattoo? Have you ever regretted a tattoo? I’m curious!