“A great beginning is sometimes at the point of what you thought would be the end of everything.” – Dodinsky
After a ridiculously long time, last week I finally put on my big girl pants, bit the bullet and got my first tattoo! (And of course I’m going to post about it!) I think I’d thought since I was a kid that I would end up getting a tattoo at some point, mainly because back then I thought it would look cool, above anything, but I’d been putting it off for various reasons. Firstly, the permanence aspect always used to scare me off. Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows I can be terribly indecisive. I’d worry that even if I locked down a tattoo design that I loved, I’d end up having some kind of regret at some point in my life. That wasn’t the only thing that put me off – I was worried it would hurt too much, or that the tattoo itself wouldn’t live up to my expectations. Most of all though, I wanted my tattoo – especially it being my first one – to have a lot of meaning to me. That way, I’d be less likely to go off it later in life, because I’d look at it and remember exactly what it means to me, and what it meant to me, in the moment.
And with that opening spiel finished, I’ll share with you the whole story, and the meanings behind my tattoo, and why it was important to me.
In all honesty, I’d been seriously considering tattoo ideas for about two years – I told you I was indecisive! The butterfly wasn’t actually my original choice. I was going to go with a feather, to symbolise my journey. Of course, I was in a completely different place then, but I recognised that I was changing, even back then, slowly but surely. I was branching out, figuring out my identity a little bit more. Although the end result is completely different compared to my initial idea, it’s nice that the idea of change is still a big part of my tattoo. It’s great for me, that I can look at my tattoo and see a positive symbol of everything I’ve gone through, in particular the last couple of years. Rather than dwell on the pain and the negative side of it all, I can celebrate the person I am now, and how all of this has made me a stronger, more confident woman.
I chose the butterfly because I wanted something that shows how I’ve embraced my femininity compared to in the past, when I would reject anything seen as feminine and girly. I used to love being “one of the guys” when I was younger, which used to absolutely mortify my mum at times. Gradually though, over the last few years I’ve become more feminine, which I’m sure she will be pleased to read! The butterfly also felt more “me” than the feather, as time had passed, and I had found myself more as a person. The idea of having something with wings really spoke to me, because it really fits with how I’ve been feeling lately. I’m free to just live my life and be me. I also wanted the Celtic style because I’ve always thought it looks pretty cool, and timeless, and again, I just felt it fit me better than a regular butterfly.
The colours were a happy accident. In the original picture I found online, and sent across to my artist, the butterfly was just purple, which I was pretty happy with. The colour was less important to me than the rest of it. When the time came, however, my artist suggested mixing it up a little by adding in some pink at the ends, to put his own spin on it and make it my own. He came back with a blue as well, to complement the purple, and I realised my tattoo was going to have the bi pride colours. In one way, I realised it would just add another layer to this, but on the other hand I wasn’t sure if I would want to have a part of my identity on my body like that. And then I realised that not a lot of people would see those colours the way I saw them, so it wasn’t a big deal. It just looks good aesthetically, and it makes it more interesting than just having it all as one colour. The colours definitely made me love the tattoo more than I did already.
The whole process of getting it done was surprisingly easy. The pain wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Then again, it’s always hard to judge when you have nothing to compare it to. There’s no benchmark, so you don’t really know how it will be until you get it done. It felt surprisingly cathartic in a way, too. I was literally turning the pain into a symbol of the next chapter of my life, and I felt amazing for it, when it was all done. I was reaffirming to myself that I am who I am, and I’m free to go and be the person I always wanted to be, the person I knew I was. It’s a symbol of me accepting myself for being me, not wanting to regret things that happened in the past, and instead, continuing to grow. It’s a symbol of everything I’ve learned in the past few years, about myself, and life in general. It’s a reminder that I deserve that acceptance and permission to be happy, not just from others, but myself. It’s a symbol of the healing and the transformation I’ve gone through in the last few months, and how proud I am of myself, for taking the good that I can, and for giving myself something I can take with me throughout the rest of my life. It’s a reminder that you can’t erase all the bad stuff that happened in life, but you can draw strength from those experiences, and apply those lessons in your future. Simply, it’s a celebration of how much brighter my life is now, and the changes I made to get to where I am today.
Thank you for reading!
Under the Crown 