Our daughter has a droll, wry sense of humor. She decided to address her childhood fear of all things science fiction, horror or suspenseful by getting a tattoo, not her first mind you, just the latest. She waited  until she turned 18 to start her tattoo collection, I think because I had made my feelings about tattoos very clear, I didn’t care for them. I used to tell her and her brother that  they were so beautiful, why tarnish such beauty with a tattoo? They both, of course see tattoos as beautiful and avenues of self-expression, so my feelings and thoughts fell on deaf ears because they both got tattoos almost immediately after turning 18. My husband likes tattoos, he has three, so he shares that love of ink art in common with the children, which is a great thing, something they share amongst each other, just the three of them, it makes it special when they discuss and plan future tattoo art.

At this point, I have gotten over my vehemence against the art, after all our daughter has more then just the one, I think she has at least five, not all are as big as the one in the picture, they are strategically placed around her body, very tasteful in my opinion and maybe it’s because when I see my children I see beauty, I don’t find the tattoos ugly, I now see them as a part of who my children are and I see their meaning.

I’m glad I have evolved, doesn’t mean I’m ever going to get one, that will never happen, I can promise you that, but when I hear about a new tattoo, I no longer make faces or say anything, there is nothing to say and nothing else to do, but smile, hug and love.