Let me save you the trouble of all that wondering:
I don’t have any tattoos.
It’s less that I have something against tattoos in general, and more that I’ve never wanted to commit to something that would stay on my skin forever. If they ever come out with tattoos that fade away in 3-5 years, or that you can magically change to a different image when you tire of the first one, I might be more interested. But I can’t think of anything I might have tattooed on myself in my youth that I’d still want on my body.
For example, when I was in my early 20s, I went through a kickboxing phase. Took boxing classes and everything. I was super bad at it, but it was really fun. (I highly recommend any fitness routine that allows you — even encourages you — to yell YOU’RE GOING DOWN, SONOFABITCH! while you kick things and pound them with your fists.) But I didn’t stick with it forever. So imagine how dumb it would have been for me to follow my whim at the time and get a tattoo of little red boxing gloves. Nowadays, if anyone saw it, they’d just ask, “What’s with the mittens?”
So I’ve never committed to any permanent ink.
But if I did, I think I’d have the greatest chance of lifelong satisfaction if I chose words over images. Maybe a favorite phrase from a book. Perhaps this, in tiny print, on the bottom of my foot:
On that note… Here’s a piece on tattoos that I did for Barnes & Noble. Give it a click if you’re so inclined? Thanks, friends. Enjoy:
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(When the Divine Ms. Erica of YeahWrite gets in touch to say, “Would you please link this post up and share it with our ’31 Days to Build a Better Blog’ event?” I say “Yes, ma’am.” Advice: Always say yes when she asks you a question. Unless the question is, “Do you tan easily?” In which case, I wish the answer were yes for me. But it’s no.)