My Tattoo Story

September 16th is "Tattoo Story Day." Yes. It's a thing. I wouldn't have known it was a thing if it wasn't for the Every Day's a Holiday Flip Calendar my mom and dad got me this past Christmas.

Tattoos are one of those "things" that get people super opinionated. There are a lot of people who love them and a loooot of people who hate them. There are people who tolerate them. Even my husband is not the biggest fan.

Why did I get one? Well, it's Tattoo Story Day, so let me tell you the tale! (If you're interested!)

Even as a younger girl, I wanted a tattoo. I blame it on the fact that I'm an artist and appreciate art in all forms ... even if a body is the canvas. They interested me. I liked the idea of being creative in that way. When I was 20 years old, I asked my parents if I could get a tattoo for my birthday. (Side note: I know what you're thinking ... "You were 20. You didn't have to ask permission." Well, I value my parents' opinion when it comes to big decisions like putting permanent ink on my body. Therefore, I asked anyway... AND I was still living in their house at the time.) My dad asked that I take that next year and really think about it. "Think about what you want, why you want it, and what your feelings are about it after praying."

I did it. I spent different points of that year really praying, thinking, and planning. I didn't feel guilt for wanting one. I didn't feel like God was telling me it was wrong. The next step was figuring out the "why." I already knew what piece of art I wanted. Although it was album artwork from one of my favorite bands, the desire for the art had nothing to do with the band. So why did I want that specific piece? At that point, I viewed it from a gallery standpoint. I pulled up the artwork, stepped back, and really pondered why I wanted it. Why did it speak to me? What did it say? What did it mean to me?

It's an image of a bird. What did it make me feel? Well, when I stared at this image, I thought of how I was dead before Christ. Just bones. Dust. Nothing. But when I accepted Him as my Lord and Savior, He gave me Life. Wings. Freedom. Freedom in Him. Birds are a picture of freedom to me. And I felt free: free in life and in Christ.

I had just gotten out of a terrible span of time in my life. My relationship ended. I wasn't walking with the Lord. Eating disorders. Self-hate. College came to a halt. When Jesus pulled me out of that funk, I felt like a new person. Again ... free. I didn't feel dead anymore.

So. This image of the bird was a perfect mix of my past AND my present. Whenever I think about it, I'm reminded of 1. what I was before Christ and 2. who I AM in Christ.

When my 21st birthday came around, I told my parents my logic. The only thing that my mom asked me to do was change the head of the bird from a skull to a "normal" head. :) My dad took me to get the tattoo the next day. I don't regret it. It's a part of me, and I love that.