I’ve been planning my tattoo for a while – a year, to be exact – and today was the day I finally got it done. I was so nervous about it, not just for the obvious “will it hurt?” reasons, but for two others;
- Paul Tipping who was doing my tattoo is an elaborate tattoo artist. He has done some incredibly detailed, creative art and I wanted: a paper aeroplane. Surely he’d shoo me away with his tattoo needle saying, “come back when you’ve got a real design!”
- As I’m mid-flare up and everything is more painful than usual, was this the most stupid time to get tattoo? Possibly.
As it happens, I needn’t have worried. Paul was incredible; he showed total respect for my design and explained why it had challenged him in a different way to the designs I was used to seeing on his facebook page. A lot of his customers are covered in tattoos, and I panicked he would think I was a loser for having reached the ripe old age of 29 and not got my first. He didn’t, obviously. He talked me through everything without a flicker of impatience or amusement. I couldn’t have felt more comfortable. I was nervous about the pain and was convinced he’d laugh at my ridiculous behaviour – he has multiple tattoos, several on his skull and one on his eye lid; how could I possibly wince at something on my wrist? – but he was reassuring and even the other artists in the room asked me inane questions to distract me from the pain. I loved them all.
As to point number two, who knows? I’ve read various forums about people with fibromyalgia getting tattoos, but we all experience pain differently and so who the hell knows? Maybe it would have been easier if I wasn’t mid-flare, maybe it wouldn’t have been different at all. It hurt, yes, but I survived. And more importantly, I love it!
Oh, and that’s one step closer to completing the list of things to do in the year I’m 30! Bring on the rest!