As someone with eight tattoos, I can speak from experience when I say that tattoos are not always a permanent symbol of youthful decisions we cherish forever. While I do have a few pieces that I genuinely love, some of my tattoos, particularly my first, have left me questioning my choices. If I were to wake up tomorrow and find that all of them had magically vanished, I wouldn’t be upset. But there’s one tattoo, in particular, that I deeply regret: the one I got on my 18th birthday.
The tattoo was a product of the time. I turned 18 in 2008, and the trends of that era, including tattoo styles, have certainly changed since then. Despite my love for tattoos at the time, I now see how poor my decision-making was, especially in choosing the design and the artist.
Back then, I was dating someone we’ll call Steven, a guy who had been tattooed since his teens and was already heavily inked with bold designs, many of which he had acquired through less-than-legal means. These were not the delicate, fine-line tattoos that have become popular today. Steven had large, black-and-white shamrocks on his chest, a family crest on his arm, and even a Mickey’s Fine Malt Liquor logo on his knee. I thought these tattoos not only made him more attractive but also made him an expert in the field. Because of this, I entrusted him with the task of booking my first tattoo appointment.
In hindsight, my decision to let Steven choose the tattoo artist and design without doing any research myself was a huge mistake. At the time, I believed my infatuation with Steven and his tattoos somehow made me an authority on the matter. I decided on a quote from the song “Your Glass House” by the rap group Atmosphere, a line that also referenced a Shakespearean phrase. I felt it was a perfect reflection of my identity—combining my love of rap and my English major at college. Unfortunately, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Years later, I despise the design. The tattoo, a large text on my right hip, has become blurry and nearly illegible due to the bleeding ink and changes in my body. What was once a meaningful phrase, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” now looks like two thick, distorted black lines. It has become a constant reminder of my hasty decision.
Living in Los Angeles and spending time at the beach means I often wear swimsuits, which makes it impossible to avoid seeing my tattoo. When I’m photographed in a bikini, I go to great lengths to angle my body or cover the tattoo with my arm, resulting in some awkward poses.
Looking back, I wish someone had cautioned me against getting a tattoo at such a young age. While tattoos can hold personal meaning and look great, the reality of permanent body art at 18 is that you might not feel the same way about it as you get older. In my case, waiting just a few months or taking the time to thoroughly research both the design and artist could have saved me from years of regret.
Related topics: