A couple of years ago I had a bright idea – myself and 4 women who had been best friends for over 30 years should get matching friendship symbol tattoos to celebrate that fact.
Then I changed my mind.
Then I changed it back.
There is a back story…
In my 20s I was in Africa and got henna drawings on my hand and foot. I really, really loved them, but they were of course temporary. I mourned their fading.
I strongly considered getting a foot tattoo as a result, but the practical (sometimes slightly boring and conservative) side of me kept rearing its head.
You see, I had worked as a radiation therapist at a cancer hospital and that meant I interacted with many older people, some of whom had tattoos. There were not many tattoos on 80 year olds that still looked great.
And what if I regretted it? Unlike most things I was willing to try, a tattoo was permanent (laser tattoo removal was not a thing I was aware of).
Then there was the tattoo artist who told me that the foot was the most painful place to get tattooed.
So I didn’t do it.
As time went on, more and more friends and family got tattoos. Some I loved, some not so much. I felt a mix of envy and regret, but didn’t join their ranks.
Then I had a conversation with someone about tattoos that had special meaning. An example was a friend who had her scar from breast cancer tattooed into a beautiful image.
Which got me thinking…
What if my friends and I got a tattoo to celebrate our amazing friendship, still strong almost 30 years after we left high school? Wouldn’t that be a wonderful celebration?
So in a moment of madness I asked on Facebook messenger what they thought of the idea.
I immediately changed my mind, and deleted the message. Within seconds. But it turns out that only deletes it from your screen, not theirs!
4 really enthusiastic agreements came back to me. Oh oh.
I explained that I was unsure and they gave me time to think about it.
I researched, as is my tendency, and I found a gorgeous symbol, and my inside right ankle seemed to call out for some artwork.
Justifications came to mind – my skin was not pristine. It has scars, many moles and freckles, blemishes and wrinkles. A tattoo was not marring a perfect canvas. I was in my mid (maybe even late!) 40’s, old enough to do what I wanted without worrying about my sister realising I was not 100% a goody-two-shoes.
So I said yes. And we booked in to get it done a week later.
Each day of that week I woke up with a different feeling about the coming tattoo. Excitement one day. Horror the next. I actually had a nightmare about it (needles, blood, and regrets were all involved). Then I would be really excited again.
My friends laughed each morning wondering if I was going ahead that day or not!
Along came the Friday evening. A quick drink in the pub first (only one!). Then off to the tattooist, a lovely man who was very reassuring.
My friends made me go first – in case I backed out!
The tattoo artist and I spent time selecting the right place and size for the image. Higher than I had pictured, but perfectly positioned.
I sat in the chair, at this stage more excited than scared, though worried slightly about the pain.
And it began!
It turns out a tattoo hurts less than I thought it would! And my ankle really did need a friendship symbol on it. It just looks perfect to me.
My friends went next, 3 on top of their feet and one on her chest.
I don’t think they regret it either.
It has been a few years now, and I have no regrets. And, don’t tell my mum, but I have started thinking my left foot might need a bit of artwork…