“Why do you and your mom get so many tattoos? You cried like a banshee during your first one!” my dad said after I showed him my newest design.

It made me wonder why I loved the habit. Growing up, I never really understood the power behind them. I thought they looked cool, even if some of my family filled my head with the idea that they were un-ladylike.

My mom, on the other hand, had numerous symbols, many of them covering her arms and shoulder blades. She looked pretty badass, if I’m honest. More importantly, each carried a meaning. Some referenced her favorite shows, and she dedicated others to people she lost over the years.

For example, one piece was of a dancing bear representing The Grateful Dead in honor of my uncle, Jeff. He loved that band so much. It’s the purpose and meaning behind these marks that drew me in. Hence why, as soon as I was old enough and able to afford it, I got my very first tattoo back in 2018. It was a scarred red heart with a bandage on it, created by an old friend. I was confident that I could handle the pain, and I’d take it without a problem. To sum up, things did not happen as I had anticipated. Instead, I cried and gritted my teeth while the artist worked on it.

Meanwhile, my mom laughed in the background while she recorded the moment. Looking back now, it was embarrassing. But the look of the final product made it all worth it. Especially seeing how brightly the red popped and how the outlines of the scars really brought the piece to life. But its message carried the greatest impact. Before getting my first splash of ink, I struggled a lot with the early stages of depression, as I had finally come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t okay. Getting this design not only demonstrated that I was surviving these challenges, but it served as my reminder that I wasn’t going anywhere, even when it felt like I was vanishing from reality.

Throughout the years following, I ended up with six more. Three were in honor of my best friends; two of these were dedicated to Quinn. One was a skull hand with a bright blue flame, encouraging the idea of burning your past, while the other was a sun to complement her moon. The third tattoo was for my other best friend, Cezar. He created an image of a fox and dove existing together, which the artist touched up to make it more fitting for the other styles I had.

My fourth one was for all the pets in my life, a simple heart with a paw print. As for my last two, they were both quotes from musicals I kept listening to. The fifth was a quote from Dear Evan Hansen, which read “You will be found.” And lastly, the sixth was based on a musical from TikTok known as Epic, inspired by the song “We’ll be fine.” This included a small owl to represent Athena since I adore her character.

I already planned what my next few are going to be, including a matching rose with my mother and grandmother if all goes smoothly. Doing this has become an addiction, though unlike some of the unhealthy ones that exist, it doesn’t damage the body. To me, tattoos are liberating and tell the world your story. Sometimes they could be a silent protest to support your beliefs, or they could be a silly little picture that brings a grin to your face.

So, when my dad asked me why I got them, I smiled and shook my head before replying. “They make me happy. What more reason do I need?”

Editor: Shannon Hensley