I wanted to wear a permanent reminder of the most important values and lessons in my life. So I booked my tattoo in March... and chickened out. I booked again in May and the appointments got botched. I wondered if this was "a sign". Luckily my sister was with me this time. She just drove my anxious ass to another studio.
There I found a designer who perfectly interpreted my idea, and got the same artist that did my sister's tattoos (so we now have a family tattoo artist!). It hurt, like a shard of glass being dragged through my skin. The shading was agony and I couldn't help but cry out. Then it was over in less than 10min and it healed wonderfully.
I worried if I would regret it. Instead I have grown to love it even more over the last month. Its graceful flow is beautiful to me and to some people, ambiguous. I discovered even more meaning in my design. Sometimes I feel naked when I have to show it to others, because it shows such a real part of me. Overall though, I feel grateful for a precious reminder that will be with me when I need it most.