Getting My First Tattoo…

I’ve always been certain that I wanted a tattoo, probably since around 15 – 16 years old! As a matter of fact, I can’t remember not wanting one! Of course, it’s never been the same thing. Oh, If you would have asked when I first wanted one I would have shown you a picture of this rose with a barbed wire stem. (I still have the picture, but I can’t remember where It came from). A few years later I would have told you all about the wings I wanted on my back. (My dilemma is that while I wanted wings on my back I didn’t want the big ones because they are always there no matter what you wear and to me, the small ones just weren’t right) so I waited. Well then there was the double pistoles faze, but I just couldn’t figure out where on earth I wanted to put it. Years later I’ve tried to talk my sisters into having cute little tattoos done together or even my Bestie (but we can’t agree on anything)
You see I come from a pretty conservative family. My dad especially has always had something to say about tattoos & piercing (he lost it when he found out I got my belly button pierced at 18) he also hated the fact that I have my ear lobes pierced 2x. But he was raised in a time where that didn’t happen and ladies didn’t do that kinda thing! (They also don’t curse like sailors either, so I’ve been fun for him)
So I’ve always felt that I’d like to be able to hide my tattoos if I wanted. Ya know from my dad, work, or whatever. But, also just to uphold this image I have of what I’m supposed to be. And as much as I’ve always wanted a tattoo I have a very opinionated view of where and where I do not want one on my body. So it’s always been a struggle to me. Also, I’m kinda sentimental so I want any tattoo to mean something to me. (But my first had to be very special) I wanted it to be special and to be able to look back on it and say yea that was a great time in my life. I’m very aware that tattoos are forever and I want to never regret it.
So I managed to make it to 29 years old before I got my first ink. The past few days have been an emotional roller coaster. I had been slightly pestering Dillon about how I wanted a tattoo. I had finally settled on this cute little stitched heart I picked out because I love to sew and always have. Nothing is going to change that.
Well then as the days wore on Dillon asked about the cute buck and doe we had talked about both getting once and I kinda fell in love with that idea again. So I kept asking and apparently it wasn’t subtle or sparingly because our friends decided they were going to take me & Dillon (more or less against his will) they said they were tired of hearing about it, so they were taking action. Walking through the doors I instantly felt nervous, not for the tatt or for the pain but for how permanent it was and how it would change me.
Now I have always been one to say I’d never get a name tattooed on my body (with the exception of my children) Dillon is the only person I have ever even considered of doing. After much thought, I’m scared that might jinx us so I stuck with just first initials.
The lady handed me the paperwork to fill out and I got down to it. One of the questions is what was the last time you ate. Well, I had had lunch, but no dinner yet, but D and I had both ate some brownies (I got at Great American Cookies in the outlet mall in OKC) right before we left. Well as I’m trying to explain this to the girl it dawns on me she might think I had “special brownies” so I tried explaining that it wasn’t but got my self into a fit of giggles. (I’m pretty sure that chick thought I was high as a kite) Anyways, as the lady is drawing it out trying to get it perfect for me as I watch and ask for certain things. I’m growing more nervous but at the same time there is this excitement growing and I can’t believe I’ve finally taken the steps to do something that I’ve wanted for so long. When she takes me back and sits me down and transfers the image to my arm I kinda want to make a run for the camper. My hands are sweating like crazy and I have a huge knot in my stomach. But I want it so much!
OMG people lie to you about how bad it hurts! “A little worse than a misquote bite” -Dillon. “Just a little, but then it goes numb. Heck, I fell asleep” -Sparky. Liars! I mean I didn’t cry or anything, I didn’t pass out, and I didn’t ask her to stop. I actually watched as much as I could it’s cool as sh*t! But I could definitely fell it!
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After it was all done I couldn’t hardly believe it. It was kinda like a dream. I have wanted it for so long that I couldn’t believe it was real. The fact that it was on fire made me know it wasn’t a dream, but walking out of there I was totally shocked and the permanence was definitely settling in on me!
So it has been a few days and I’m still stoked about it. I love it absolutely! I catch my self-feeling more like a bad a**, I can’t explain why and I laugh at myself normally after. Also, I forget about it when I’m busy doing something and I catch a glimpse of it and I think I have something on my arm. I know I’m a mystery even to myself. As for now, I’m not planning to get another one for awhile. One day I would still like to have one for Logan. I’d also like to go with my sisters still but we have some debating to do.
Oh Yea, I’m 29 and kinda freaking out about what my Dad will say when he sees it.

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