Why I Love My Mom

My mother is a bit old fashioned in a lot of ways. She does not appreciate the fine art of rainbow colored hair, piercings, or tattoos. She prefers her music to have a little less angst and a little more twang. She insists we don’t say “f**k” on Facebook. 

I am her daughter. 

My poor mother. She has this tomboy of a girl who loves tattoos and secretly wants purple hair. The girl who would wear a baseball cap more often than not. The girl who just got two big tattoos and has one more even larger one in mind. 

She does not understand, and yet she is trying to find a way to love them. She acknowledges I am part of a different generation where body art is acceptable and not so much an act of rebellion. For me, it is an expression of ownership of my body. It is an act of self- love. It really has nothing to do with anyone else’s ideas or prescriptions for healthy living. It is just me owning my skin. 

I consider my mother’s feelings when I choose to do things. I knew she would not like the tattoos I chose to adorn my skin. I did not get defensive or expect her to jump up and down with glee, I know better than expect this. 

She surprised me. She even managed to make a joke about the compass between my shoulder blades. Today she even said they were pretty. This is a big step for her. I know I can follow my own path. I am secure in the knowledge that I am loved for being exactly who I am. So many people are not lucky in this way. They are chastised and judged by the people who are supposed to love them unconditionally. 

I don’t have to worry about my family shunning me. I have been raised with the expectation to live my life on my terms. I don’t have to worry about being excommunicated from my tribe. My heart is safe to travel and explore because I will always have a safe harbor to return to. 

I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I have permission to push boundaries and to seek my own path. 

I love my mother. She is one of my best friends. She celebrates my quirks and my successes. She worries about me when I am struggling. She tries to comprehend my interests. Sometimes, she can only tolerate them a little, but she tries. 

The freedom associated with unconditional love is profound. It allows me to be brave and to follow my dreams. I feel like I can accomplish anything I set my mind to achieve. 

I am indeed a lucky girl. Thanks Mom. I appreciate your love. 

Finding My Way

Today was Tattoo day! I got two new beautiful works of art. 

I could go into a bunch of deep bullshit about the compass and how it will help me to always find my way. I could also explain how it represents my new life goal of finding adventure. I could even tell you how it represents my new bravery and all sorts of other nonsense. 

Let’s be honest, I simply wanted something to represent travel and adventure. I googled it. I saw something which left me feeling happy when I saw it. It’s not all that deep after all. 

Most importantly, I love it. I think it is beautiful and I am so proud to have it on my body. I feel like it is the perfect tattoo for me. I wanted something bold and feminine. I wanted a pretty tattoo.

I think it hit the mark perfectly. I wanted the word “adventure” under the compass in typewriter font. It looked superfluous though. All I needed was the image. Sometimes words are not necessary. 

The second tattoo is covering my old tattoo. I was tired of feeling like Lisa Frank had vomited on my leg. So, I chose a flower capable of doing the job. 

I am ecstatic how these turned out. I feel like I have art work to stay with me all the time. They feel like me. 

When I got my first tattoo, I was scared to commit. I really had no business getting one. I chose an awful piece of flash art and it was tiny and not done well. So, in a misguided attempt to salvage my mistake I had a ring of butterflies circling my poor little daisy. I was left with a larger tattoo I hated. 

I have carried this travesty around on my ankle for ten years. I was too afraid to try again. I just knew I would never be happy with it. Then, one day I knew what I wanted. A friend knew a good artist. The rest is evident by my pride in my new work. 

So grateful to Danny Sun and my friend Tracy for introducing him to me. I love my new grownup tattoos.