Last night, I went into Skin Kitchen to finally get the tattoo that I've been wanting to get for about two years. When we picked out Lotus' name, I was quite sure it would lead to a lotus tattoo and I'd been dead set on getting it ever since.
Walking into the shop, I was 100% sure about this tattoo. I have a decent sized tattoo on my back, so I knew what I was getting myself into and knew what it would feel like. I was prepared with images and colors and designs that I really, really liked. I had drawn designs on my arm at home with a Sharpie, to see what it might look like. I wanted a big ass tattoo on my arm. I was ready. I had thought this over a billion times.
And this is what chickening out looks like. I saw the drawing and for the first time, totally felt unsure about going through with it. And let me just tell you, this is weird for me – I'm normally not like that at all. A bunch of things flew through my head and I sat there for a few minutes, talked with Bo (who was previously the biggest skeptic and had tried to talk me out of this.) But he said, 'Are you crazy? You've been wanting this forever. You know you'll like it when it's done.' Stepped outside, thought some more, went to the restroom, thought some more. Talked to my awesomely sweet tattoo artist, sat back down in the chair and said 'let's do it.'
Then I jumped up again out of the chair right before she put on the peroxide, went outside once more with Bo, and came back in and told her I couldn't do it. Something wasn't right, I didn't feel like I should go through with it; last night just wasn't the night. Trust me, I felt pretty bad about walking out of there, and even though I'm probably a tattoo artist's worst nightmare, they were extremely kind and understanding. So I came home with a pen drawing on my arm and a chance to think about it. Maybe someday I'll go back. But I woke up this morning knowing that I made the right decision.