I have a confession...
I have a tramp stamp
eww
I wish I could tell my 18 year old self
STOOOOOP
DON'T DO IT!
but alas I cannot.
So this is the story of how I hid my tattoo for 11 years.
When I was 18 I thought it was awesome not having to obey my parents. I was a freshman at San Diego State University and I had a rather large tax return - to the tune of $186.
Since I had no bills to pay I decided the best way to spend that money was to go get myself tatted.
I had my friend draw up an image of "bird wings" because I liked this quote from Forrest Gump
"Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly, far, far away from here"
Which is funny because I don't really ever talk to God (sorry God!) and I am not so sure what I was trying to fly away from.
So off I went with my perfect back dimples - I only know this because the man who tattooed me told me they were sexy. Did I mention his full throat tattoo? I digress...and decided to get permanent ink.
(Apparently I cut this photo in case my mother ever found it)
He placed the stencil on me and I actually wanted it a bit lower so you couldn't see it in a bathing suit. But then he told me it would take another 45 minutes to draw it again.
So I said, "okay, that works".
Because apparently waiting 45 more minutes was out of the question for me.
My tattoo actually looks more like idk
angel wings
a mustache
the Motorola symbol
So for years I hid it from my parents because I thought they would disown me. One time I even covered it up with a bandage and said I scraped my back on the faucet getting out of the bathtub...again wtf.
When we went on family vacations where I was in a bathing suit. I made sure to always be behind them or swimming backwards in front of them.. No joke it was always on my mind.
Even when the day came zipping up my wedding dress I had my sisters do it to spare my mother the horror that my skin was perma inked.
And then one day last November I was leaning over the computer desk helping my dad oblivious to the fact that my lower back was exposed. My mom walked in
"Is that a tattoo?"
"Umm, what? Haha don't be silly" nervously yanking down my sweatshirt
"No, you have a tattoo. Let me see it"
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
I'm 29 and my father is going to kill me!
and you know what?
Neither of them cared
ONE.FREAKING.BIT!
So as I sat there in disbelief that they didn't care I was in shock.
I then walked into the kitchen pulled up the sleeve on my wrist and said
"Do you care if I have two?"