How I Got My First Tattoo

Image | | Ava Marie

IMG_6645I recently got my first tattoo – my apologies to any relatives who just read that sentence. I never thought I actually wanted one that badly, nor did I think I would have the guts to let a stranger stick a needle in my skin and mark me with ink that will never fade away. Despite this, I was convinced by one of my best friends to get matching crown tattoos that would forever mark our life long friendship – cheesy, I know. We decided that the next time we were together, we would both get them, assuming, correctly, that the third party in our friendship trio was likely never going to get a tattoo, but she was of course invited to come along for the ride. A few days later, I spontaneously decided to fly back home to Oklahoma, quickly realizing that this could be the weekend we were referring to…the weekend that we forever mark our undying friendship via permanent ink – it’s the only way to really guarantee you will be friends forever, right? 

We soon began drawing first drafts onto our skin, finding the right placement and size, figuring out how much it would cost and where we would go. It seemed as though we were actually going to do this thing. We called the tattoo shop and asked if they had any openings, which they did. “Great,” I said, hesitantly, as my heart began to beat faster between my ever-tensioning shoulders. It was now or never, so it seemed.

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A few hours later, we began the drive to No Regrets Tattoo shop. Once we were parked, we took a few deep breathes, asking each other, “are we really doing this?” Convincing ourselves that our coolness levels would only increase after getting tattoos – totally worth it. We began the walk down the  pedestrian filled street, almost passing the tattoo parlor as we saw others emerge with fresh body art concealed in saran wrap. We both entered, sat on the couch, and refrained from speaking to anyone, awkwardly looking around, wondering if we should make a run for it. Eventually, the older, bald tattooed man at the front desk asked us if we had been helped. “No,” we replied. We were told to hang tight for a few minutes, so we continued sitting in silence, taking more deep breaths, listening to the faint sound of screams and buzzing needles – totally kidding about the screams. No one was actually screaming.

“It’s a no. I can’t do it,” my friend suddenly said, breaking the silence. She went back and forth like this a few times, feeling as though, despite the name of the tattoo shop, she might someday regret getting one. We waited a bit longer until the tattoo artist appeared behind one of the curtained rooms. We were up next. I asked my friend if she was sure she didn’t want to go through with it, she said she couldn’t, but that she would watch me get mine. How nice of her, I thought.

Although I had a moment of uncertainty, I eventually decided that, like Tom Petty, I wasn’t going to back down. I was going to stick it through and get this crown imprinted on my skin, where it would forever remain a reminder of the time my best friend convinced me to get the friendship tattoo that she had always wanted; a one person friendship tattoo. And who knows, maybe she would change her mind after she witnessed my composed demeanor as he stuck me with the needle. Maybe she would realize that, yes, I am now cooler because I have a tattoo, but that didn’t seem to change her mind. I sat there with my back to her as she witnessed it all go down. The third party in our friendship trio arrived moments after the tattoo was finished (it only took about 45 seconds) and she was visibly surprised that I had actually gone through with it, as was I.

After the pain subsided and the adrenaline died down, I started to wonder if I had made a mistake, thinking I might too someday regret it; that the story of how it came to be is pretty comical, possibly not one that I would want to share. I received a few more surprised reactions and various questions about how much it hurt and what it meant. My dad said, “oh, that looks like a crown,” to which I responded, “Good, that’s what it is.” I soon began to realize that it doesn’t actually matter how people react to my new ink. I decided I wanted a tattoo in the spur of the moment, overcame my fear, the possibility of regret, the fact that my partner in crime backed out of the whole thing, and went through with it. Getting a tattoo showed me that I can get through things a great deal more nerve-racking and survive them – yes, I know this sounds cheesy too, but it’s really how it made me feel! I also realized that, yes, tattoos are something you will have to live with your whole life, a constant reminder of a different time, a memory, a moment your past self once cherished. I decided to get a tattoo that would always remind me of friendship, no matter what happens in the future, no matter how unstylish it may be someday – who knows, maybe wrist tattoos will someday be considered as bad as tramp stamps. But I have to live with this decision. And, for now, I am pretty happy with it. 

11350922_527021597447210_1907961541_nIf you have any crazy tattoo stories you’d like to share, please comment below!