The Itch

I've got the tattoo itch, bad. As an already tattooed individual, I can completely stand behind the claim that once you're tattooed, you'll want more.

I got my first tattoo around 2007, after months of deliberation. It was a small piece, but I remember the drive was incredibly long and I was sweating bullets the entire way down. When I finally arrived at the tattoo parlor, my nerves vanished. I gave the artist my design, he copied it down and placed it on my shoulder blade, and went to town. Within 25 minutes (or less), it was complete.

Sometime around six months later, I felt the itch to get another. I can still remember driving up to a concert with a friend, and thinking "why don't I just get it now?" I didn't, mind you. I waited...about a month later, and then finally broke down. I went to the same parlor and it was just like before. In and out within a few minutes.

The last one I got was around my birthday in 2011; a birthday gift to myself, if you will. It was by far, the most painful out of the bunch, as it's down my abdomen - from my bra line to my panty line. It took a little over two hours and I cringed the entire time. But, ironically, it kind of reminded me that beauty is painful. To me, expressing myself through art was more than enough motivation to withstand a little pain.

All of my tattoos have meant something personal to me. Despite the insatiable urge to get another, I typically dwell on the design for months to make sure it means enough. My first was about beating depression. The second was about cutting. And the third, was a reminder that I am beautiful, despite what gets thrown my way. I've never once regretted any of my tattoos.

Now, after an over two year waiting period, I'm beginning to feel the tattoo itch stronger than ever. I have the means; I have the idea; I just have to get the specifics. Though my parents would freak, my mind keeps wandering back to the half-sleeve tattoo I've been contemplating for years. The idea behind the half-sleeve holds its roots in my urge to move across country to Washington state. I've been told many times by countless people that I am strong and independent, and that I've got more guts than most to uproot my life and settle elsewhere. While I may over-think (a lot), I still have a tendency of sticking to my guns and doing what I can. Because of this, I want my next tattoo to represent that nothing is out of reach. Whether it be love, happiness, or a shiny car; it's all within your reach as long as you try.

So that's my tattoo story. Three down, many more to go. What kind of tattoos do you all have? Or any that you'd like to get but haven't yet? Let me know in the comments!

Update: I did get a new tattoo. See below:

The Road Less Traveled

I hail from a tiny town in the Midwest. Population: Just over 1,600. My home was large and my family raised cattle and chickens. Because hey, that's what people do, right? I lived with my parents (who are still married to this day, a feat rivaled in today's society) and my younger brother of two years. It was a good life - simple and non-complex. I knew my place in the world and had no qualms with it...at least not for the first 23 years of my life.

Then I met Mary, an amazing woman with wisdom to share. She opened my eyes to the possibilities, stating that I was young so why shouldn't I live and peruse my dreams before it's too late. In late 2011, I realized that the one thing I wanted more than anything else was to move and get out of the Midwest. Along the way, I met Joe -- a native Washingtonian, who stole my heart and promised me the world. We lived and loved for a year, before the love dwindled and he left me. Honestly, it left me devastated (as any long-term relationship that dies would). For over a week, I bawled my eyes out and kept on with the self-hatred, as I assumed it was my fault the relationship had withered and died.

Then a good friend of mine, Steven, came into my life and showed me that there's more to life than heartbreak. He taught me to stay positive and change my way of thinking; that I am an amazing person and that I deserve the world. And like the spark that ignites the bomb, my life changed. I'm moving closer to where I work (there is nothing like the hatred of stop-and-go traffic). I'm spending more time with new friends. I'm focusing on bettering myself and learning to love who I am.

It's odd to think of the circumstances that brought me to where I am now. But truth be told, I wouldn't change a single thing. Life is about being happy with yourself and I'm finally on my way to achieving that.