I Hate Your Tattoo


It seems like everyone is getting inked these days. Statistically the millenials (hey, that’s me! and everyone else born from the early 80’s to the early 00’s) are the most tattooed generation – by far. Naturally my opinion might prove unpopular. But I hate your tattoo. And pretty much every tattoo I’ve ever seen.


I’m just not a tattoo person. You might be. And that’s okay. I’ve dated guys with tattoos. I have good friends with tattoos. I have many, many family members with tattoos. Several of those people have at least one tattoo that they regret. For the record, I’d really like to know the stats on how people feel about their tattoos 1 year later, 10 years later, 30 years later, etc. I’m guessing that chart would look a lot like Lindsay Lohan’s career. Or this: \

Also, is it just me or does it seem like once someone gets one, they want another. And another. And another. It’s rare to meet someone who has one tattoo. Just one. Why is that?

The funny thing is, tattoos fascinate me. If you have one, you can guarantee that I’m bursting at the seams wanting to ask you what the meaning is behind it, why you got that specific thing put on your body for the rest of your life. I love reading the stories behind tattoos on other people’s blogs. And if it’s a good story I’ll think, yeah, I get that. I see why you wanted it. That doesn’t mean I think you look better with it than you did without it. But you wanted to express yourself. To display what is on the inside, on the outside. Like I said, I get that.

To me, I almost think about tattoos the way I think about clothing. It’s something you put on your body to try to present to the world who you are, or who you want to be.

tattoo gif
Ow Ow Ow Ow Ow….No Thanks

So I try not to judge a tattoo until I hear its story. But I promise you, if you have a neck tattoo, there is no amount of story that will make me like any part of that. Nope. If your tattoo is just ridiculously stupid, I might think you are stupid. Your tattoo was a choice. You are judged by your choices in life, by the decisions you make. If you have tweety bird on your ass cheek because you lost a bet, I can’t respect that.

Though I’d never get a tattoo, it’s fun to think about what I’d get if I did get one. Perhaps my reason for not understanding tattoos is that there is nothing important enough to me that I’d want permanently etched on my body. A picture of Archie’s face? I’m certain that I’d be the person who would love their tattoo for a year and then hate it and hate myself for getting it. I’m confident in the me I am today. I’m not confident that much of what I like today, I’ll still like in 40 years. But who knows, maybe they’ll have magic tattoo removal lasers by then.

If I leave you with one thing, let it be this: It’s your body, not mine. What matters is how you feel about it and how you feel about you with a tattoo. My opinion does not mean jack. I know that. Tattoos just aren’t for me. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one in my generation who feels this way.

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