I think everyone remembers their first time. It is burned in your memory like a brand from an iron and elicits a deep emotional response when you think about it. Everyone does it for different reasons, but once the deed is done, it becomes a permanent part of your physical and spiritual being.Of course I am talking about getting your first tattoo. Once a taboo subject that only the bad boys and girls dared to delve into, tattoos seem almost commonplace today.
The infamous "tramp stamp" being a favorite amongst novice young women who seem to be trying to fit into a mold that's not quite right. I would see these on women in dimly light dance clubs and shake my head in disbelief knowing that the pretty butterfly and flower motif would eventually morph into something akin to The Mothman Prophecies as age began to do it's thing.
But I still secretly wanted one. I wanted something that was mine; that meant something without being just a part of a trend. Six years ago I came THISCLOSE to getting one, but at the last moment opted for a piercing instead. I have always known what I wanted - two heart shaped cherries on stems. In my mind they symbolize life, love and a rebelliousness that has always simmered underneath my surface.So I did it. I took the plunge and crossed that line. It was exhilarating and liberating, despite the initial discomfort. I feel different now, as if I have finally opened a door that has been closed and locked for a very long time. When I wipe away the cobwebs from the entryway, I see myself in a mirror....but it's not the me from before....I've changed. And I like it.
