I’ve thought about getting a tattoo for years. Nothing big, just something small and understated, but meaningful.However not having a clear what or where prevented me from moving forward with the idea. That, and the process of actually getting it. You know, the whole pain thing.For the record, I consider myself to be pretty fearless – I like roller coasters, white water rafting, climbing mountains, jumping out of planes… – but needles scare the crap out of me!
They terrify me. As in, I made doctors give me liquid (re: child) vaccinations until I was 23. As in, when at the hospital in March and told I needed a tetanus shot, I was reduced to tears (seriously) and refused.
So for me getting a tattoo was kind-of a big deal. A daunting big deal. But, in some ways it was like killing two giant birds with one stone:
1. Facing my paralyzing fear of needles, and
2. Paying tribute to my sister and brother-in-law who were killed in a car accident 3.5 years ago.
Bridget was a photojournalist extraordinaire and Hayden lived for music as part of Australia’s Electric Jellyfish.
She was behind the lens; he was out front. I could think of no better tribute than a camera. Not to mention I’ve become something of a compulsive photog myself.
I searched for the prefect image and found it in an old photography book from the 70’s.
Monday night, with my image in hand and best DC gal by my side I headed to DC Ink.
The artist (Issac) looked at my image, disappeared into another room and emerged with a hand drawn version that I actually liked better than the original.
15 minutes later, it was over. Bam.
Was I scared? Absolutely! I was nervous and nauseous! But it wasn’t as scary as I thought.
Did it hurt? YES! But not as much as I had anticipated.
Did I conquer my fear? Um, probably not. Still not a fan of needles.
Am I happy with it? YES YES YES! I love it! Its perfect.
And now I can check it off my Life List!
You are brave! Now that is one thing I could NEVER do. I’m way too fickle to settle on something so permanent.