my art

It is 2022.  Yes, I have tattoos.  Three of them to be exact.  None of them are inappropriate.  I have one that is flowers.  One that is dedicated to my pets.  And one that is dedicated to my faith.  Nothing that I would think would be too over the top or offensive to anyone else.  No swear words or naked body parts.  I can easily cover them up with clothing and jewelry so you wouldn’t have any idea. 

I am lucky in the fact that although my job is considered to be “white collar”, the company I work for would be most definitely considered “blue collar”.  Blue collar work definitely views tattoos in a much different way… it’s accepted.  If my neckline doesn’t cover my tattoo on my chest, no one says anything.  If I choose to wear a skirt, no one shames me for having a tattoo on my leg. 

I’m at a work event tonight and representing my company.  The event is in a tiny little town…according to Google, the population is 1200.  My company has more employees than that.  Anyways…small town.  Small town minds.  The judgmental looks that come with having a nose piercing or when my tattoo shows.  This lady looked directly at my tattoo and then looked at her friends before rolling her eyes.  Really?!

Why is it such a big deal?  Why do people care what I choose to put on my body? 

“Your body is a temple.”

Sorry.  Tell me the last time that you went into a temple or place of worship, and it wasn’t decorated or have artwork on walls.  Why are my tattoos any different?  They are my art. Each of them has a different meaning for me.  It may not make sense to you, but that isn’t for you to decide.  I’m the one who has to live with them.  I’m the one who will have to watch them as I get older.  Hopefully when we get there, I am at a point where I look back at my life and remember the times and memories those tattoos bring. 

My advice?  Rather than judge.  Ask.  Because chances are the person has a story that you know NOTHING about. 

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