loved.

I know many different people have many different ideas about tattoos. I grew up thinking that I would never ever get one. Not being a fan of needles, the thought of someone actually using one over and over did not sound appealing to me. But... something changed.

About a year ago, I started thinking that I wanted to get one. Something simple and classic. I knew what I wanted but I struggled with where. Being in the professional world I knew it would be wise to get it so I could cover it up. But I didn't like any of those spots. I wanted it on my wrist. I listened to opinion after opinion of those around me, attempting to persuade me to see it their way. I talked about it a lot but never quite could get the nerve up (I really don't like needles). I would convince myself to just do it but then when the time came I just couldn't do it.

My one goal for 2009 is to live life. To not just talk about things but to actually do some of them. On January first, I went to dinner with a good friend and we were talking about my goal and what that would look like for the year. I was drawing on my napkin and when I looked down it was the picture of the tattoo I had wanted. I looked at her and said, "Tomorrow's the day!"

We went our separate ways. Just as I was settling in for the night, I got a phone call from the same friend with news that our friend had passed away. This sent shock through our circles. A few of us from the old group gathered together and spent time crying and laughing together. This too played into my decision. I wasn't going to let life pass me by.

In the morning I called Graffiti's, the local tattoo place. They could in fact squeeze me in that afternoon. Oh gosh, was I really going to go through with this? I called my brother because I really wanted either him or my mom to go with me. He told me he could meet me there. I started getting nervous around lunchtime. Would it hurt? Was I actually going to follow through?

3:30 on the dot, I walked into the place with my left wrist looking like this:

My brother showed up a few minutes later. I began filling out my paperwork and showing the artist what I wanted and where I wanted it. Standing there in the middle of the shop, I didn't really have a lot of thoughts. I knew that I needed to do this. I needed a permanent reminder that I was loved. By God, by my family, friends. That I am a person of worth. And that because I am loved, I can give love to others.

So by 4:00 I was walking out of the door with this permanently etched on my wrist:

Its been almost a month since I got my tattoo and it's completely healed up. I have to say though I love it more now than I did when I first got it. It's helping change my attitude and the way I look at things. When I get mad or frustrated either at myself, a project I'm working on, or a person in my life, I often get stopped by a glance at my wrist. Most of the time I forget it's there but I always manage to see it just when I need to.

Because for the first time, I finally believed I am loved.